Black Phoenix Witches
by Out of Custody
Summary: In a world where women are not allowed to learn magic one little girl rises to walk her path of friendship, war and love.
1. Introduction

**Here I am again, with another story. Before I start though, I would like to inform the reader that I have taken liberties with this plot - lots of them. In the last story of mine, readers were upset because of that but then again, if I wouldn't change a thing here or there I would be retyping J.K. Rowling's story and as glorious as it is, it is not my intent. **

**That said, I hope you enjoy this new story - let me know if you do, reviews are always helpful. I do not own the characters or the song, I do own the plot though... mostly the rest is J.K. Rowling's doing. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Ten-year-young Hermione Jean Granger sat on her bed, the doors of her room closed as she patiently plucked the sites of her guitar, her eyes glued to the note sheet in front of her. By now she knew the rhythm of the song by heart as well as the lyrics, if she wanted to, but she had always felt safer when she could look at the paper for reassurance.

_Who were the witches? Where did they come from?__  
__Maybe your great-great-grandmother was one __  
__Witches were wise, wise women they say__  
__And there's a little witch in every woman toda-y__  
__There's a little witch in every woman toda-y_

To her left, soft light entered her room through the translucent white curtain that shielded her from prying eyes outside but allowed her to see the world moving on around her perfectly. She was not interested in the world today, though - she was far too occupied with the few accidents she'd had the last few months.

_Witches knew all about flowers and trees,__  
__How to use all the roots and the barks and the leaves __  
__(When) People grew weary from hardworkin' days,__  
__Witches made them feel better in so many ways_

It had been nothing at first, a child's imagination that if she would blow softly at the ticking gas-hearth the flames would come faster – and to her surprise they did. She had thought nothing of it at first; had simply continued to play her little game and had relished and giggled in the fact that it worked every time.

_Who were the witches? Where did they come from?__  
__Maybe your great, great-grandmother was one__  
__Witches were wise, wise women they say__  
__And there's a little witch in every woman toda-y__  
__There's a little witch in every woman toda-y__  
_

Her mother always laughed at her childish antics with the laugh of a mother, good-natured and carefree, and she was always called 'The Little Witch' – a reference to her mother's favourite book when she had been as young as Hermione had been, and today it was Hermione's favourite book. After reading that, who didn't want to be a witch?

_When women had babies the witches were there__  
__To feed them and help them and give them some care__  
__Witches knew stories of how life began,__  
__Don't you Wish you could be one, well maybe you can__  
_

Hermione knew that as a woman she would never have the right to go to school and learn all the great things her brother would surely one day learn, she would, after this year when her basic education was finished, need to learn how to cook, to sew, to raise children. If she was lucky and her father loved her as much as he said he did, she would maybe be allowed to further pursue her studies in foreign languages – she so loved to learn new things.

_Who were the witches? Where did they come from?__  
__Maybe your great, great-grandmother was one__  
__Witches were wise, wise women they say__  
__And there's a little witch in every woman toda-y__  
__There's a little witch in every woman toda-y__  
_

She would have to be a good girl to be allowed to pursue her studies, a very good girl – there would be no discussing philosophies with Aunt Mae, there would be no talking back to her father when she knew she had read something else somewhere, and there would be no looking over her brother's shoulders when he was learning new things.

_Some people thought that the witches were bad__  
__Some people were scared of the powers they had__  
__But power to help and to heal and to care__  
__Isn't something to fear, it's a pleasure to share__  
_

Now would she be a witch, her father wouldn't dare to tell her those things. She'd be allowed to learn as much as she wanted, she would do so or she'd be able to hex him real bad. She would set his clothes on fire as she had done with Mister Purcell the other day… it had been really only a joke! She had formed her lips to a small 'o', puckering them as she did and blew soft air over the tips of her front and her middle finger, staring at the hem of his teaching robes. And suddenly they were aflame!

She hadn't even moved from her place and there were no matches outside of father's smoking room… but she had convinced her teacher that maybe the looking-glass at the window had focused the rays of the sun and had singed his robes. Though she knew that it was something else…

_Who were the witches? Where did they come from?__  
__Maybe your great, great grandmother was one__  
__Witches were wise, wise women they say__  
__And there's a little witch in every woman toda-y__  
__There's a little witch in every woman toda-y_

Yes, that had been one of her incidents. She had also lit the great bonfire of Aunt Mae, for Guy Fawkes Night last year without any fire at all, and the old woman had danced around it with her like true witches would. And only last week she had extinguished the gleaming tobacco in her father's pipe with only a look, when her father had reprimanded her for being a girl – yet again; he had tried to put the glimmer back for over an hour, but every time Hermione had looked at it, it had went out again, and she knew that she was the cause.

Setting her guitar aside again, she unruffled her skirt and decided to go down for a light snack, hopefully she wouldn't roast it again. Ah, to be a true witch and to live up to her potential… what a dream.

* * *

**Short introductional chapter, it doesn't say a lot yet. The song is from Bonny Lockhart and the book 'The Little Witch' does exist, it was written by Otfried Preußler. **


	2. Eleven

**So, wow... that took some time. I am sorry for making you wait so long, it's really not good manners at all. I am changing that herewith, there will be a new chapter every week at least. I hope this works out the way we want it to. **

**Either way, enjoy this chapter!**

* * *

Hermes and Hermione Granger turned eleven today. It was a great day for the twins: sleeping in, being woken up by song and cheers and of course the beautiful cake.

Jean Granger outdid herself with each passing year and both the kids marvelled at the wonders that she could do with flour, butter, sugar and eggs. This year it was a chocolate cake with crimson icing tasting like the ripe cherries they had harvested during the summer holidays. And there on top with simple elegance were two 'H's written in golden icing.

Hermione was always surprised at how beautiful yet simple her mother could decorate a cake, or anything for that matter. And then of course, her mother's cakes were always the best, there was nothing that could reach it.

Hermes received a lot of gifts, mostly from her father and they were pricy gifts: an _Encyclopaedia Britannica_ for example (a gift that Hermione herself would have killed for and that she desperately longed to at least touch, but she had to be a good girl and that included not looking with envy at her brother's gifts), or a new photo-camera that Hermione knew he would have no use for, but she contented herself with her own gifts, not looking at her brother's.

Personally though, she had to admit that she was jealous, _very _jealous: because really, what would she be doing with a baby kit (nappy, pacifier and bottle included of course) and a pink apron? Her mother seemed to be ecstatic about her gifts, so Hermione tried to be as well, but she couldn't help but feel that it all was just a farce.

But it was only the beginning of the day, and as the saying went: A misty morning does not make a rainy day, Hermione should keep that in mind for the next few years.

At eleven o'clock, the door-bell rang and Hermione, ever being the good daughter, went to politely see who it was.

"Aunt May!"

The relief she felt when she latched herself to her Aunt's neck and was twirled around by the strong, but small woman, was so real that she couldn't help but squeal and laugh – that was, until Aunt May sat her down and she noticed that the dire look her father sent her was one that would get her into trouble sooner or later.

"Father." She straightened her back and looked to the ground, her hands clasped in front of her.

"What are you doing here?" The voice of her father sounded angry, but Hermione knew with a start that it was not directed at her, but at her Aunt – his own sister. The woman replied carefully with a soft voice, and Hermione could hear the gentle smile in it, even though she was still not looking up.

"Why, my niece and my nephew celebrate their eleventh birthday, I thought I should at least give them something for it."

The obvious ignorance of her aunt did not pass Hermione by – it was common knowledge that the male part of a family was named before the female part, but her aunt had always been somewhat different. Her father's voice grew strained, laced with anger.

"I told you not to come near my children again, your gifts are not welcome, turn around and leave."

But Aunt May had already put two suitcases into Hermione's hand, a larger one and a smaller one. "Those are your gifts dear, be a good girl and give Hermes his as well, I know you will. I'm sorry I cannot stay longer, but I hope that we will see each other again someday, write me if you cannot. Have a nice birthday, Hermione, God may bless you and your brother."

And as quickly as she had come, Aunt May vanished again, leisurely walking down the lane to the gate, where she shot Hermione and her father a last glance before she slipped through the iron gates and turned down the road.

Curiously Hermione looked at the two suitcases. "Shall I bring them into the living room, father?" she asked carefully, hoping – praying – that they would be allowed to keep their presents. About to say something, probably 'no', her father was interrupted by Hermes, who stormed on the veranda.

"Was that Aunt May? Why did she leave so quickly? I didn't even get to say 'Hi'." Hermes was most unhappy about her leave, but Hermione consoled him, showing him the presents they had received, before looking at her father.

"May we keep them?"

She thought she had done a good thing about not telling Hermes that his own father had shooed the lovely woman off their propriety and she thought that she had well deserved to keep the small suitcase that was surely meant for her – and now that Hermes had seen his presents, how could their father possibly deny him to know what was in there?

A grave nod was their answer and cheering the children bolted up the stairs to their rooms and sat down in Hermes' bigger one. Automatically Hermione handed her brother the larger suitcase, while taking the smaller one on her lap.

"Actually, Hermione, there's your name written on the larger suitcase…" Hermes said, and went to grab for the smaller one, Hermione was dumbstruck.

"But that must be an error… you, you always get the bigger ones."

To her surprise, her brother smiled at her and gently pried the smaller one out of her hands. "Well if that is the case, then I simply demand that we change. I don't want the bigger one. I want you to have it."

Not asking a second time, Hermione let go of the smaller one and took the bigger one, opening it reverently. Inside was an _Encyclopaedia Britannica_ just like Hermes' and her brother (who looked at the contents with her) patted her shoulder as she stroke over the backs of the books. There were also dictionaries for French, Gaelic and Latin and Hermione's smile grew.

Her brother snorted. "See I told you this is your suitcase, I don't even _know_ how to speak Gaelic." Hermione looked aside and smiled broadly – she didn't know it as well, but she sure as hell was eager to learn it.

Aunt May had also gifted her with a book on fire, as well as on runes and a bit of money that she wanted Hermione to spend on books instead of dresses, so she would better have to keep it hidden away from her parents eyes, according to her Aunt's letter.

Hermes himself received a shaving kit, now that he was becoming a man as well as an adventurer's guide in which was described how to build a fire, how to cook raw meat, how to hunt, to read trails and her Aunt had gone about her way to buy her brother his first cravats and a pocket watch.

Feeling that, in some way, her Aunt had managed to save the day and balance the inequalities created by the society she lived in – her Aunt turned, once again, into her personal hero and idol.

Guests were invited for later, neighbours and other family members that Hermione had not seen in ages and that she could technically live without – but Hermes was a well-liked member of the family and he loved his family equally and Hermione had, as a woman, hardly anything to say in that matter.

So she gaily prepared the table in the backyard along with her mother, picking a few flowers and decorating the table with them as well as setting the table perfectly, she received a mild praise from her mother for her efficiency. It was all that she would get, she knew that – for her mother might love her, but in the end, she was also only a woman and was as captured in this cage of society as most other women were.

By two in the afternoon the guests arrived. First were of course the neighbours and Hermione greeted them with great eloquence and elegance, as was expected of her, before she went off to a secluded area with the youngest of the Roberts, a girl of eight years who was slowly introduced into the 'real world'.

"It's your birthday as well today, isn't it?" little Margaret asked her innocently as the two of them sat on the smaller separate table in the far corner of the backyard, nearest to the house. Hermione nodded and the small child almost immediately burst into tears.

Not knowing what to do she hurried around the round table and knelt next to her neighbour and softly stroke her back. "Why are you crying, Margaret? It's a beautiful day, and I'm happy."

But Margaret would not calm down for some time – other guests arrived, but none paid them any attention, so Hermione did what her mother always did, she sat Margaret on her lap and put her arms around her in a comforting manner until the girl calmed down. Margaret was a beautiful girl and Hermione was sure that she would be a beautiful woman one day, she'd have lots of men asking for her hand one day – Hermione knew it. Her soft, blonde hair swayed in the gentle breeze and her beautiful, big green eyes now took Hermione in as she sniffed a last time.

"Now, are you good again?" she asked soothingly, brushing her hand over the hair of the younger girl, who nodded in return. "Why did you cry in the first place, hm?"

Margaret leaned against her and for some time neither of the two said something, simply observed the merry guests as they greeted Hermes and wished him the best for his birthday.

"Those people should come to you as well, wish you a Happy Birthday as well, but they don't – and they never will, because you are a woman. And I am a woman, so they will not greet me either... and I _want_ them to greet me, to greet you, I want _women_ to be greeted and to be treated equally. It's not fair that you should not be able to celebrate your birthday the way you want just because god decided to make you a girl."

Hermione hummed in acquiescence, but decided not to say anything on that matter for now, Margaret would one day know what it meant to be a woman and she would find her way to power – she would find her way to be greeted and to be celebrated, Hermione knew that she was that headstrong, the Roberts all were. That and they had a good position where politics were concerned, with her father being an alderman.

Her musings were interrupted however, when she first perceived the owl. It was a large animal, impossible to miss and every hunter would have howled in delight to have such a trophy – fortunately for the animal though this was a birthday party and bringing weapons to such an event was generally disapproved of.

From what she had learned about these animals in biology and from her private research, she would have supposed that the owl was a Great Horned Owl, a _Bubo virginianus_ – its wings were wide-spread as it glided directly towards the long table where her brother's guests were assembled, and, to be more precise, it steered self-assuredly towards her brother.

She wanted to yell out, to tell them to watch out, but the owl, stern look, dangerous beak and sharp talons, with its uniform of white and dark-brown feathers caught her look for only one instance, glaring at her as if to tell her to shut up before it landed right in the supper of her brother, holding a letter in its beak and expecting him to take it.

Hermes, as the rest of the guests, was surprised at the appearance of the animal and as he received the envelope, the owl flew away again, screeching as it went.

People laughed good-naturedly and continued eating, as if nothing had happened at all, but Hermione couldn't wait for evening, when the guests were gone and the envelope would be opened, something strange came from that piece of parchment, for it sure looked too thick to be paper and surely an owl – even of that calibre – wouldn't be able to carry such an amount of paper for whatever distance she had flown.

Hermione would not be disappointed.

In the evening, when the guests were gone, her father confiscated the letter from her brother and the three of them were asked to assemble in the living room, where her father inspected the envelope and the strange waxen seal that closed the parchment.

"Hogwarts School of Wizardry." Her father read aloud, his voice dripping with disdain at the end of his short soliloquy. "This has to be a joke... and a very bad one at that."

Ripping the envelope open and almost tearing it apart, her father grabbed the letter which consisted of exactly three pages and started to read:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WIZARDRY

Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,_

_Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizar__ds)_

Dear Mister Hermes Granger,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

UNIFORM

First-year students will require:

1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)

2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear

3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)

4. One winter cloak (black, with silver fastenings)

Please note that all pupil's clothes should carry name tags.

COURSE BOOKS

All students should have a copy of each of the following:

_The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)_

by Miranda Goshawk

_A History of Magic_

by Bathilda Bagshot

_Magical Theory_

by Adalbert Waffling

_A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_

by Emeric Switch

_One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_

by Phyllida Spore

_Magical Drafts and Potions_

by Arsenius Jigger

_Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_

by Newt Scamander

_The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection_

by Quentin Trimble

OTHER EQUIPMENT

1 wand

1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)

1 set glass or crystal phials

1 telescope

1 set brass scales

Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad.

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS

ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICK

Yours sincerely,  
Lucinda Thomsonicle-Pocus

Chief Attendant of Wizard Provisions

For some time, no one spoke in the room – Hermione daren't even to breathe – Magic existed. And her brother would be able to go on a school where he would learn it, so many exotic books, so many exotic things, a wand… All sorts of ideas exploded in her head, all sorts of pictures swamped her, Hermes with a wand and a uniform, performing magic in a great hall full of other boys – for surely, girls wouldn't be allowed to go there either.

Her father was the first to react. "Magic… wizardry… oh those little… I will find the responsible and I will persecute them, oh to have the guts for such a bad joke and on such a day on top of that!"

Hermione wanted to stop him, but her father had already hurled the beautiful letter into the fire – there in front of her eyes, burnt the one evidence that magic existed that maybe she could be a witch one day, if only she would have learned enough, but as the parchment burnt, Hermione knew that never, never again would there be a chance for her to become what she so badly wished to become.

Later that night, when she lay in her bed and watched the stars outside of her window, she prayed that maybe, hopefully, she would be able to steal the next letter, respond in Hermes' stead and go to the school – she giggled girlishly at that idea.

Oh that would be so wonderful! Posing as a boy when in reality she was a girl, surely magic could do that for her, surely she would be able to pass as a boy instead of a girl and then no one would notice that she wasn't really what they thought she was… and then she'd learn all of the mysteries there and find acceptance because she already knew how to make fire, without a wand even! That had to count for something, right?

As she lay there in the dark of the night, her mind spinning with all the great stories she wove herself for a good night, she smiled in the childish glee that was still hers – dreaming of days that could be hers.

* * *

Technically Hermione had always been convinced that she would end her days as one of the oppressed women that she had so grown accustomed to see nowadays – she would sew, and cook and pop out child after child that she would then have to raise. She would have to serve her husband and would never be allowed to do what she so pleased to, if her husband didn't want her to.

Though the day after her birthday, Hermione's mind was still occupied with the magical appearance of the owl and the acceptance letter that her father had burnt so quickly – she realized only now that she could have put out the flames, would she not have been so stumped, she'd do just that if another letter should arrive. Her father could not keep this from Hermes, if he was gifted as well, then he should go and learn – and Hermione would learn from him… or maybe she would simply go herself.

Hermes had never believed in magic anyways and he had also never made fire go out or simply appear, but she could.

That was why, when she caught sight of the barn owl on her gate with yet another letter, she held out her arm willingly and indeed, the animal descended. She had yet another pack of letters from the box in her other arm, but she quickly put it under her arm in order to stroke the soft feathers of the creature.

"Hey there." She greeted it and as the owl hooted, it lost the letter – Hermione was quick enough to catch it and the owl hooted yet again, as if to thank her. "Will you wait until I wrote an answer? Will you do that, pretty one?"

Again the owl hooted and flapped up from her arm, perching itself in the nearest tree hooting yet again.

Hermione ran as if the devil himself were behind her, swinging his whip – she didn't want to pass the chance and so quickly ran up the stairs and into her room.

_Dear Mister Dumbledore, Headmaster, _

_I gladly accept the place at Hogwarts, come next September. As you may be informed, however, I am not familiar with the workings of your world and would greatly appreciate it, if you would give me any indication as to how I might be able to acquire the requested materials. _

_Sincerely, _

And here she stopped for a moment, looking at her flourish. Her mother had always told her that her writing was mature, though hardly female and Hermione guessed that at this very moment, that was not a bad thing. The headmaster would surely not give her any indications would he know that she was a girl and not a boy.

However, she was not sure if she should really use Hermes' name like this – was it alright if she used _his_ name to _her_ advantage? As if on cue, Aunt May came to her mind and she realized that she wanted to learn on this school, she wanted to further her education and she knew that she had magic, she _believed_ in it – and if she didn't seize this opportunity, there would be no other one.

_Sincerely, _

_Hermes Granger_

_P.S.: As my neighbours are not familiar with the sight of owls, might I suggest that your couriers leave their messages at the bird house a bit farther in the garden on our grounds? I express my deepest gratitude in advance. _

There, she had now skillfully evaded her father knowing anything more about her planning to go to that school – no one would know of it, it would be her secret, from now until the next September, when she would leave to this school – oh she couldn't wait for it.

As she flew down the stairs on silent ballerina tip-toes, she passed the kitchen and found a small mouse which was just eating a bit of cheese that their servant Igraine had carelessly left – or maybe left with purpose. Anyways that was not her problem right now, she had a plan for that particular mouse… a nasty plan, but one either way. The poor animal did not have the slightest chance to escape her skilled fingers.

Hermione was elated when she found that the barn owl was still hidden in the tree next to their entrance and as she clicked her tongue softly, it descended with yet another hoot to her arm and gently pried the suffocated mouse from her hand, feeding on it.

The young girl watched with great rapture as the hunter devoured the little treat she had prepared for it and when the owl hooted and _smiled_ and owlish smile, she returned it, before holding up the envelope.

"Please carry it back as fast as you can, if we see each other again, I may have another treat for you – be safe on your trip, pretty one."

Gripping the envelope in its beak the owl took off and Hermione watched after it, hoping that her future would from now on be steered by her own plans instead of the plans of society – her heart soared with the owl and her dreams took flight.

* * *

**Margaret Roberts married Denis Thatcher in 1951, becoming Margaret Thatcher, also known as the Iron Lady. I have no idea if she ever was blonde and I'm sure she doesn't have green eyes so obviously I know this, but I still changed the truth - deal with it, it is only a story, not an academic report. **

**Love, and please review!**


	3. First steps

**Oh wow! A new chapter so quickly! I am surprising myself. **

**Well, either way, here is the second chapter - please do enjoy. Usual disclaimer applies (no money, not my characters, large liberties ;) you know...)**

* * *

Summer passed quickly, faster than Hermione had originally anticipated and she managed to sneak out on one day and go to the place that Headmaster Dumbledore had called 'Diagon Alley'. It was hidden behind a pub that had frightened Hermione at first, and hell she had been even more frightened when she had been inside, but luck had been on her side carrying the name of Tom.

Apparently he was the owner of _The Leaky Cauldron_ and when he found her erring around in the pub he had first meant to throw her out again.

"Wait, sir, please I'm…" she stopped shortly and showed him the parchment that was her acceptance letter as well as the direction-giving letter from the headmaster, the landlord stopped immediately. "I'm searching for Diagon Alley, sir." She finished silently, hoping that her girlish features would be hidden by the boyish clothing that she had stolen – _lent _– from Hermes for this day.

Tom's eyes immediately lit up. "Well, look at this, are you here all on your own Mister… Granger?"

It was strange to be addressed as 'Mister Granger' but she figured that she best get used to it, seeing as from now on it would be her name, she was no longer 'Miss Granger'.

"Orphan, Sir." She shrugged her shoulders innocently.

Tom bought her excuse and found time to accompany her to the shops she was required to go, as well as to a Wizarding Bank called 'Gringotts' – apparently it was led by Goblins and she had to create a new account with Tom as her guarantor . Silently thanking Aunt May, she presented the small fortune she had accumulated over the last months in order to set up her account – it was enough even and after her obligatory school shopping, she would still have a little financial cushion.

"An' you know," Tom said when they came out of the Bookstore, "when summer comes and you get outa there, you can always come to me and I'll give you work, I'll even pay you a little and you'll be able to sleep at the Leaky."

"Really? You would do that, sir?"

Tom smiled at her, boxing her shoulder affectionately and grinned even wider. "Sure thing, lad, sure thing. Now let's get your wand."

_Ollivander's _– the wandshop – was the most magical place that Hermione had seen until now, it reeked of dust and of… magic. Ollivander himself was old and haggard looking, but his bright eyes that took her in drew her in equally and she smiled despite the tension in her shoulders.

"So, so… what do we have here, yet another one, isn't it, Tom?"

The landlord of the Leaky Cauldron smiled broadly. "Ya know, Oll' – picked this one up just today. Orphan the guy…"

Ollivander took her in with a scrutinizing look and Hermione could tell that he was probably debating whether or not she really was a boy, but until now no one had had the guts to really ask her - she would have denied it anyways - but she feared (for only a moment) that maybe Ollivander would be the first one to really question her.

The blue eyes of the wand-seller flickered on, and he nodded, shuffling to the back of his shop. "Humm, hum. Yes… yes, let's try this one."

When the old man reappeared, Hermione was presented a small wooden stick that gave off a strange vibe, but Hermione, bravely, still grabbed it, feeling it in her hand. It hummed strangely and Hermione's brows furrowed.

"Go on, go on, swing it a little." Mister Ollivander encouraged her and – still not trusting her _wand_ – she swung the stick of wood.

On the counter next to the cashier, a stack of paper caught fire – Hermione watched horrified, before she caught her awares again. "Out." She managed and as quickly as the fire had begun, it was extinguished.

The wand-seller looked at her with big eyes. "A fire elementary, huh?" He cocked his head at her and neared her ever so slightly, taking her in from all different angles this time. She felt terrifyingly vulnerable under his gaze, but stood tall.

"Say, lad, how far can you go with those flames of yours?" Hermione was not sure what to say and instead swallowed, shrinking back just the slightest bit, but Ollivander followed her every retreating step. "Show me, will you? You can do no harm in here."

Hermione did not want to show anyone what she could do with her flames. Over the summer she had experimented yet a bit more and found that flames were controllable in small doses – she was able to extinguish the fire in the fireplace, she could equally light it. She had not tried larger doses of fire than that, she was not sure how much fire she could control.

Concentrating hard on the fireplace that she saw across the room, she ignited a roaring fire in it, smiling brightly as it started – gently she intensified it and lowered it again, before letting it soar a little higher and finally extinguishing it. To her surprise Ollivander smiled next to her as he looked at her again.

"Very good, young Mister Granger, I might have just the wand for you."

Ollivander retreated and came back with a dusty, dark green satchel that he carefully opened to lay the top on the counter. In it lay a beautiful, black wand and Ollivander instantly started rattling off the data to it – the information amazed Hermione to no end as she stared at the wand in wonder.

"Thirteen inches of ebony, with a dragon string core."

"What dragon?" she could hear Tom ask faintly and she turned her head just slightly to see both men equally.

"Icelandic Firecrow."

Frankly Hermione had no idea what an Icelandic Firecrow was, but by the way that Tom regarded her with a new glint in his eyes, she guessed that it was something special. When she took the wand this time, she was surprised just how snugly it fit into her hand, even though it was long.

"You look almost like a squire with the sword of his knight." Tom joked, and Hermione smiled good-naturedly at him. The wand _did_ look as if it were too long for her, but Ollivander only nodded sagely.

"You'll grow into it, young man, I am very sure of it – if it is yours, wield it for me, will you?"

This time when Hermione flicked it, the magic pouring from it, neatly arranged all the boxes and satchels within the shop, even going as far as to remove all the dust in the shop – she was perplexed to say the least; Ollivander nodded sagely.

"This, young man, is indeed your wand. I shall ring it out for you…" While he waddled over to the cashier, Hermione started to count out the money, high with luck – she had a wand, she was really becoming a witch! She had just done magic! In front of other people! She was not crazy!

Tom bid her good-bye at the Leaky Cauldron, wishing her a good start in the year and gave her a hearty squeeze. "Come by as soon as you wish, if you owl be before I'll be sure to have something for you to work."

* * *

August 31 found Hermione unable to sit still.

"Will you _stop_ your incessant hopping around?! This is no way for a young lady to behave! Still your limbs or I shall still them for you!"

But her father's words hardly reached her. Just a week prior she had received a letter with directions to the platform where her departing train would be waiting. Platform 9 ¾ - she would take the Hogwarts Express, but Hermione (being the thorough young woman she was) had already checked the train station King's Cross to see that there was no Platform 9 ¾, and the steward she had asked her to help had only yelled at her and shooed her away most rudely.

Her moods didn't dampen though, she was convinced that there was some magical way to get to the Platform, she just didn't know how… yet.

Over the last month she had sorted through Hermes' old clothes, even though she would be wearing her school uniforms at all times, she felt oddly naked without her 'muggle' clothes.

_Muggle_, she cocked her head, a strange description for those that were non-magical, she was not even sure where the word originated from… but maybe there were books on that. Oh she could hardly await to read all those books – already she had poured over all her school books, positive that she knew most spells by heart now, even though it was only in theory and according to law, she would not be allowed to perform magic outside of the school until she would be of age.

The world she was about to dive in was so full of exotic names and potions, spells and stories that Hermione could hardly wait to finally board the train and enter the school – whether she was a girl or not, she was firmly determined to get through her seven years at the boarding school and be one of the first witches ever.

She hardly slept at all that night, anxious not to miss the time when she would need to wake up – for she needed to wake up all on her own. There was not alarm clock that would wake her up, no mother, no nanny, no Hermes, she would have to do it all on her own. It would be her first autonomic step towards her future.

* * *

Just as the tower clock struck four in the morning, Hermione sat up in her bed as if she had been struck by lightning. Quickly she changed into Hermes' trousers, a chemise and a pullover, pulling a cap over her face for good measure as well, hoping to hide her yet slightly longer-than-average-for-a-boy hair.

Brushing her teeth quickly, she put the tooth-brush away in her backpack that she had hidden under her bed. She had considered the suitcase that Aunt May had bought for her, but had finally – after making a pro- and counter-list – decided that a backpack was the better decision. The suitcase would have been too heavy to silently carry down the stairs and silence she would need. She was used to carrying the backpack from the few pick-nick-excursions she had made with her family and had found that all her belongings well fit into her mother's backpack.

Hermione had, additionally, spent most of her time outside throughout the summer, running as long as she could and as fast as she could, even without shoes – seeing as the small heels her mother had insisted on were only hindrances and she would sure as hell no longer need them once she was out of this house.

In her backpack she had her Latin, French and Gaelic dictionaries that she hoped she would somehow be able to hide in the school, while she left the _Encyclopaedia Britannica _as a whole – it was too heavy to carry and Hermione was pretty much convinced that she would not need it in the world she was about to enter.

In exchange she had managed to put her small pewter cauldron into the backpack, as well as the books she needed, her uniform and a few changes of underwear as well as daily utilities and clothes, some more books, her wand of course, a winter cloak, extra boots and a few more folders, paper and quills.

She had practiced writing with quills all summer long as well, giving her best to be careless about her writing and soon adapted a very spiky, but readable script that all but flowed from her quills. Technically she was sure that she was as prepared as she could be to finally take the one road that would never lead her back to her muggle world.

As she bound her shoes – Hermes' old shoes – and holstered the backpack on her shoulders, she took one last deep breath, staring at her door as if to wait if it would grow jaws and try to snap at her, nothing happened.

Feeling slightly queasy, the young girl opened her door and tip-toed down the stairs – quite a feat, she conceded at the end of the stairs, seeing as the backpack was heavier than she had originally anticipated, but she bravely trudged through, ignoring her protesting muscles that were still young. There would be no whining, she had decided mid-way, about to give up and try a different approach, she would from now on have to hide the girl that she was and that meant growing some muscles, keeping up with the boys on her school, mentally as well as physically.

Being a girl by nature, she was aware that she might never be able to out-do her school-mates physically, but mentally she would still be able to out-shine them, still she had to perform to her best abilities, she needed to or she would be detected.

Now as she finally stood at the front-porch, silently closing the door behind her, she looked at the rising sun in the east. It could be dangerous for a young girl like her to be on her way at an early hour like this, but she had stopped the time that she needed to walk from her home to King's Cross and she'd be able to make it with ample time from now on. Enough time to figure how to get to Platform 9 ¾ ... that and the whole house was still asleep.

A gentle hoot drew her out of her musings. Craning her neck ever so slightly, she smiled at the barn owl that had, since the time the second letter had arrived, always brought her letters. Fishing around in her pockets, she drew out a small owl-treat that she had bought in Diagon Alley and the animal swooped down on her shoulder, gracefully accepting the treat and clicking its beak jovially.

"Well, pretty one, my journey will start here. I'd be delighted if you'd follow me... it makes me feel less lonely."

With another hoot the owl swooped up and Hermione watched her for only a second, before setting her eyes on the owl and forgetting her home. Small feet shuffled down the way, whiskey-coloured eyes only set on the owl that flew ahead of her.

Hermione Granger, eleven years old, left her home in the early morning of the 1st September, following the one barn owl that had delivered her one salvation from being caged in a world she hadn't chosen, following the one keeper of mysterious secrets to her new, magical world.

* * *

**There you go, not a long one, I admit - but the next one will be on today/tonight as well, so keep your heads up!**

**And please review (thank you LabyrinthChild05, angel897 and toriashley for the encouraging reviews now that I mention it^^). **


	4. To Hogwarts

**So, as I said, the second of two chapters within one day/night. I hope you can enjoy this one as well. **

* * *

King's Cross was large and, despite the early hour, packed with people at least twice her height. Hermione was worn from her three hour voyage, her shoulders ached from the unfamiliar weight put on them, as did her feet, but still she went on, trudging single-mindedly after the hooting barn owl, following its encouraging calls.

7 o'clock in the morning found the young girl insecurely looking around, the buzz of busy people swallowed her whole and for the first time she saw herself truly confronted with the real, big world that an eleven-year-old dreams to get to know. In Hermione's eyes, this very world seemed frightening at this moment.

She stood in front of the stone pillar that read '8' on one side and '9' on the other. "And now, pretty one? What now?"

The owl had lead her farther down the peers into the masses of people and now sat on the dangling sign that read '9'. Suddenly the bird swooped down and steered towards the pillar. Just as Hermione wanted to scream in fear for her companion, the agile body of the animal vanished through the pillar.

As easy as children switch from fear to delight, a broad smile appeared on the face of the young girl.

There it was – the magic she had waited to see, the magic that would show her just where she would need to go. Small feet jogged towards the pillar and just in the last moment when the final remnants of doubt set in and the smallest part feared she would collide with the cold brick wall, she stepped through the gate.

Wizards, whole magical families, stood at the platform, watching their children board the one train that Hermione had dreamt about ever since she had read about it: The Hogwarts Express. It was ancient-looking, compared to the trains that muggles used, but she had to admit that it had a certain charme.

As she passed by the many people that hardly noticed her, she caressed the outlines of the black train with her eyes. Inside already a lot of students had taken their seat, some of them as young as she was, standing at the window and calling to their parents, others – older ones – reclining in plush cushions, anxious to get back to their school.

A small squawk and the sound of fluttering feathers later, the barn owl sat on her shoulder, clipping its beak and giving her an owlish smile. Apparently the bird was very content to have led her safely here – Hermione certainly felt that her flying companion had deserved a treat.

Now self-assured and with the animal still on her shoulder, she stepped on the train, handing the man her ticket and then moving on in search of an empty student's compartment. It was easier said than done, for the train was long and by the time that Hermione finally found a truly empty compartment that had not been reserved for _anyone_, the _Hogwarts Express_ had already departed.

The moment that Hermione heaved the backpack from her shoulders, the owl swooped off her shoulder and perched itself on the highest spot it could find in the compartment – the luggage deposit. In return the young girl safely stored her backpack under the seats, glad that her belongings fit in such a tight space.

Sitting down finally she turned her head to stare at the city that was very quickly vanishing and making way for green meadows and vast fields. Hermione was delighted to find that the Scottish landside agreed with her more than she had supposed it would – she had feared, at first, that she would have to accommodate her eyes to the ample space provided, that she would be used to seeing house next to house next to house next to house.

But apparently her eyes, as well as her mind, rejoiced in the change of scenery – to her it appeared as if she could run into one direction for days and still be able to see the one and only house that she would have run from. It felt comforting in a way.

* * *

She must as have fallen asleep somewhere during her scenery-ogling, for when she woke up the next time, it was to the gentle shaking of her shoulders.

"Wake up, lad, we're almost there."

Blinking, she found a seventh year next to her, his eyes were beautifully brown, as was his short hair and he had dimples in his cheeks as he grinned at her mischievously. "Come on, dress in your uniform, no one can get off the train if they're not in their uniform."

As soon as he had left, Hermione had scrambled to dress in her uniform – the last thing she needed now was to be left behind because she forgot to don her uniform. Her hectic fumble for the uniform woke up her companion, who had apparently been dozing on its perch. An inquiring chirp made her look up just as she slipped through the uniform.

"We're almost there." She smiled and the animal blinked owlishly at her before a shudder ran through it and it fluffed it feathers before going back to normal, clipping its beak at her. Hermione smiled at the motions that quickly became familiar to her.

Just as she had fastened her robes, the train slowed and came to a halt – her smile broadened, she was here.

* * *

**Well, our little heroine arrived at Hogwarts - please review, the next chapter will be up soon =)**


	5. One

**So, finally there is a new chapter! I am so happy with all the reviews I received and wouldn't want to break my promise. Usual disclaimer applies, have fun =)**

* * *

Hermione cursed again – refraining from clasping her hand over her mouth. She needed to get used to the language among the students and cursing was included, of course when one was in class, crude language would not make her jump far but it would when she was conversing with other students.

Two weeks into the school-year found her already overtaxing herself… at least that's what it was rationally, emotionally Hermione knew that she _had_ to succeed with this charm. It was a _Glamour_ and it would save her hind if she could cast it correctly.

Over the last week, her colleagues, especially two of them, had started picking on her for her girlish features. Hermione was not very popular anyways seeing as already she dived into every book that she could reach and that would be lent to her from the library – but if even the psychically less endowed could see that she steered towards being a woman, she had to change something about her appearance. And a _Glamour _would do just that.

Hermione knew exactly how she would have to change her features: give her jaw just the slightest square to it, narrow her eyes just slightly and square her shoulders just slightly. It was her luck that she had a narrow waist anyways – now – and that she was not very… voluptuous. There was one major thing that she'd need to change though… and that would be her biggest problem – she would need to be able to use the gents… without repercussions.

And it was exactly this particular piece of her body that made it complicated for her. There weren't any hints of breasts so she wouldn't have to worry about that – yet – but her sex was a dead give-away. Especially if she would be cornered and show-cased like one of her colleagues had been just earlier that week.

Poor Neville Longbottom had been dangling in the air for half an hour straight, fighting to keep his robes over his knees to hinder passer-byes from getting a look of his under things.

Of course it had been a barbaric act, but to Hermione it had been an eye-opener. Wizards were not always kind people and she would need to look out, the older they got, the nastier they could get and she was already a target. Aside from the _Glamour_ she would need to learn a lot of other things as well in order to be able to defend herself should the time come when students would try the same trick on her.

That and she needed to know how to get herself out of such situations if no one was around.

Now however, she needed the perfect replica of the… male sexual organ that would fit an eleven-year-old boy. After a bit of pondering, she realized that her precise problem was that she had no idea just what such a thing looked like. Anatomy had never been a part of her biology classes, would it not have been for her natural curiosity, her parents would have still been successfully feeding her the tale of the stork who brought the babies.

She was aware where a man put his in order for a woman to conceive… what she didn't know was just _what_ 'his' looked like. Then again, she wasn't at an all males boarding school for nothing, wasn't she?

* * *

Shocked she exited the toilets, walking down the corridors white as a ghost – that had to have been the most disturbing scene she had ever witnessed in her eleven years. Not even watching her mother getting all loud with her hand beneath her skirt had been as disturbing as this.

Of course it had been the perfect opportunity to finally get a glimpse of the last piece of male anatomy that she lacked… or that her _Glamour_ lacked, but Jesus, research certainly had its price. Was it even supposed to fit down the throat of another male?

Ugh! She didn't even want to think about it anymore. Regaining her composure, she jogged down the hallway, careful not to be detected by a teacher and sneaked into the next available bathroom, locking it behind her.

Three days after she had cast her first _Glamour_ she looked much better, much more boyish, she had to admit it. And she became a lot more efficient with it each passing day. Now as she lifted her robes and cast the charm again, she watched as instead of her own, familiar, sex the other part appeared.

It took some time getting used to seeing it, where she had been used to the folds there, to nothing really visible, but still knowing that it had been there, now hung a small, transformed penis.

Overall, though, she had to admit that she had done a fairly decent job about it; it did not have a strange colour, nor was it two-dimensional and all in all she could be quite proud of herself, now to hold all those different _Glamours_ over her body, she'd need a bit more concentration and discipline. And she needed it from now on – for her survival.

* * *

Minerva McGonagall watched as her sorrow-cub, Hermes Granger, entered the Great Hall for dinner that evening.

As usually, the young boy carried a book around with him, clearly intent on swallowing its letters along with his dinner. He sat away from the rest of Gryffindor house, which unnerved Minerva, for Gryffindor was known for its loyalty within the house and for the open-mindedness. But Hermes Granger just did not seem to fit in.

Somehow she still doubted that the Sorting Hat had made the right decision to put the studious, young man into this particular house – she was pretty much convinced that Ravenclaw would have been a better choice. But no, the Hat had spoken, and it had said Gryffindor.

In front of the curly-haired boy appeared a plate that was quickly filled with a steak, potatoes and salad, before he started to eat, simultaneously reading another book. It was a new one, of that Minerva was convinced – he seemed to practically soak up all information like a sponge.

Next to her, Severus followed her gaze and chuckled. "Defensive spells is light reading tonight, Minerva. I fear you have a Ravenclaw in your rows."

The woman sighed and shook her head. "I do not understand, Mister Snape. The Sorting Hat should have put him into another house – he isn't even conversing with the rest of the Gryffindors, isn't even making an effort. And... even if I know it's bad sport to talk bad, but he didn't look very brave when he walked up the dais. Nothing like... say Seamus Finnigan."

Severus snorted and chewed thoughtfully on his steak, before swallowing it. "That might be so, Minerva, but trust me when I say that young Mister Granger collects all the points for your house that the rest of your cubs so carelessly throw away."

"Safe, of course, for potions."

The dour man next to her smirked self-satisfied as he took a sip from his tea, before returning his attention to his meal. "You need to understand, Minerva, that it is a fine art." She listened on. "But I admit that the young Mister does show some potential, if he continues this way, of course."

Minerva nodded wordlessly, staring at the young man still. He had surprisingly long hair for the boys of his age, but as Albus had told her, he was an orphan, which might be a reason for the long hair. At least, she figured, he kept it out of his face with a leather string.

"If his hair was a little reddish and he wouldn't keep his nose in a book, one would say he were a Weasley."

Severus dignified that annotation with a snort and Minerva smirked at the man. She would never be able to teach other than theoretically and _that_ was already something, but Severus was a gentleman and as such he never rubbed the social differences under her nose whenever she talked to him. It was easy to banter with him, for he enjoyed wit and even within the esteemed staff that was sometimes hard to find.

As Transfiguration Teacher, she enjoyed guiding her students towards new realizations; she enjoyed, mostly, the creative aspect of her work as a teacher, for creativity surely was required. Each student learned differently and as a teacher, and a woman, it was her duty to make them understand to the best of her abilities. Until now not one student had failed her.

But Mister Granger was something else.

Professor Flitwick had reported to her that Mister Granger had been the only one to float the feather at his first try, Pomona had jovially told stories of finally _one_ student who seemed interested in the subject, Professor Quirrell, silent as he may be, had told her that her cub seemed to be exceptionally apt with his longer-than-usual-wand and now even Mister Snape had admitted that the young man had potential.

Even she, herself, had witnessed with how much ease the young boy had transformed his yellow lemon drop into a gray-black-white Peppermint-Humbug. It had been perfect in shape, colour and consistency and had of course won Gryffindor ten points.

Minerva McGonagall was aware though that great power and knowledge could lead to many dark roads as well. Mister Granger had swallowed as many books as were possible, next to delivering perfect essays and was practicing spells that he should not even be interested in yet.

As of now, however, she would have to wait and see – there would be a point in his evolution when he would have to decide, and that would be the point when she would interfere, make herself known and decide for him. No way he'd go the same way as Tom, surely not.

* * *

She looked perfectly boyish, she convinced herself yet again. There was nothing wrong with her _Glamour_, everything was in place, she had not jeopardized her mission.

Taking a deep breath, she calmed her inner turmoil and looked into the mirror again. Now for those tears, waving her wand, she _Scourgified_ her face, glad to see it as unblemished as it had been before.

Harold and Ronald were indeed the two dumbest creatures that had ever walked Hogwarts' Halls – Merlin! She wished she was strong enough to rip out their throats or... or tie a knot into their tongues. She wished she was unnaturally big and strong, like Hagrid, the game-keeper was, to make them fear her and leave her alone.

Alas, she was small, tiny even compared to them and her voice was the one thing she had not yet managed to get less girlish. Changing ones voice involved a most tricky charm that Hermione knew she wouldn't be allowed to try, mostly because she wasn't allowed to borrow the book yet – what would help, however, was rhetorical training.

Yes, it was up to her to make sure that she would not get a shrill voice, not even when she screamed (she couldn't scream anymore, she could only yell in order not to be detected) – she needed to control her voice all of the time, keep it low even when she was excited and never, never, never was she allowed to sing anymore.

So, compared to the two 'true men' she really was a tiny shrimp. They had every right to call her that, even though she didn't like being compared to a muggle sea-animal that usually landed on the platters. She couldn't change it as it was however... so, she would be the _Book-shrimp_ for a little while longer. At least until she knew how to shut their mouths with a spell.

* * *

Severus observed Mister Granger carefully as the tiny boy was bullied into the seat next to Neville Longbottom. Granger glared – however, instead of directing his glare at a person, he decided to glare at the innocent wooden surface of his working desk.

It was obvious that, due to his stature as well as his bookish nature, Granger was a welcome target for anyone who was taller than he was, and really, being taller than _The Book-Shrimp_ was not hard – he truly was small.

Curiously enough, the boy had not yet fought his bullies, and had instead delved even deeper into the wonders of the Hogwarts Library and more often than not Severus detected him with a Spell Book, writing down words and wand-movements. One of these days either Potter or Weasley would find themselves with a major headache from one of the hexes that Granger was sure to write down.

"Silence." He did not even need to say it loud – students were so afraid of him that they heeded to his every command, it was a pleasure, really.

As he stood up and started his lesson, he realized that Granger stared at him, following his movements through the classroom. He was not glaring at him, but certainly some of his childish animosity was directed at his person. Severus sneered – he'd get the shrimp back.

"Get to work."

And to work they got. Longbottom was a lost cause, Severus was aware of that – there had not been one potion that was even acceptable in his opinion, everything was messed up and useless if the boy handed it in.

Sitting down on his desk in front, he let his eyes wander over the working students until he settled his glare on the first row, where Potter and Weasley worked on their respective potions to his left, while to his right Granger and Longbottom worked on the concoctions.

"Stop."

It had been a whisper, barely even, but Severus' attuned ears had immediately caught it and if he was not completely mistaken, it had been Granger's voice. Sliding his eyes under half-closed lids in his directions, he caught him making a few hand-signs to Neville, who nodded in return and went back to his potion, changing the ingredient in the last moment.

Severus sneered – so Granger was helping Longbottom, huh?

"Ten points from Gryffindor, Mister Granger, if you help Mister Longbottom again it will be the double. The third time it will be thirty points. I believe the system is clear, are my words?"

Shocked the young boy nodded, looking at him with big eyes – Severus sneered. "I said, Mister Granger, are my words clear?"

"Yes, sir."

He lost Gryffindor more than those ten points in the end, but Severus had to admit that Longbottom's potion was acceptable for the first time since school-start. Granger handed in his own potion, brewed to perfection that many of his third-years couldn't display – Severus said nothing. Any praise would encourage the idiot to continue his aiding of Longbottom, any reprimand would be too much.

But Granger did not seem to care; he deposited his potion and went back to his working-bench. Severus didn't look for one moment, inspecting his potion and when he looked back up, the station was as clean as it had been in the beginning and Granger was putting away the ingredients back into the store-room.

Severus kept the observation to himself, as well as his reaction. No student could clean a work-bench that quickly – no first-year student anyways, starting their third-year students learned the _Scourgify _and cleaning would be done with a wand. Could it be that possibly this young man had already learned the simple spell?

* * *

**So, mystery of how will Hermione stay undetected is solved! I know that a glamour is said to be a hard piece of work, but if there are two-year-olds who can score every basket they target then there surely can be a talented young witch learning a spell like that, plus if your life depends on something, you always put more effort in it (and for Hermione, school is life we know that)**

**Thank you worrywart, dia, Pellaeonthewingedlion, TequilaNervous and the four anonymous guests for the reviews and of course thank you for the follows I do really appreciate it =)**


	6. Troll incident

**Hi! Quick one came up and I figured why not publish it immediately instead of making you all wait so long. **

**Just a word before the story: there have been questions about the wand and the female-teaching staff and I have one thing to say: _patience, it will all be solved _(I'm just reminding you that JKR left the mystery about Severus Snape unsolved until the last book ;p)**

**Disclaimer: I took large liberties with this fanfiction whose original characters belong to JK Rowling only and I only twisted the story around them a bit.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Halloween came around and found Mister Hermes Granger still as an outsider. He was still _The Book-Shrimp_ and he was still ages ahead of his peers. Minerva still kept a wary eye on the student and found that his history took on disturbing resemblances with that of one Tom Marvolo Riddle.

Hermes was locked away in cupboards or classes, was hauled up in the air and when he countered that particular spell sooner than anyone had anticipated, was physically bullied whenever the other students found the opportunity.

"Reminds me a lot of Severus." Albus had sighed one evening. "Especially when I think that Mister Potter is the worst of them all."

Indeed, it came with much grief that Minerva discovered her celebrated pupil to be as much of a bully as his father had been. Hermes hardly retaliated at all, but he turned out to be a crafty one. Within a day he had learned the Drying Spell, effectively countering any _Aguamenti_-Ambushes, and when students had started pushing him against walls in a manner that left black and blue spots, he had it all countered with a first-aid healing-spell.

The one time she had seen Mister Granger strike back had been when Draco Malfoy had hauled him up in the air and had been just about to strip him naked. It had been nothing but chance that she had just descended the stairs, when Malfoy had pointed his wand at Granger and had loudly cast the _Divesto_.

Granger had reacted with a speed she had only witnessed in Severus when he was in dueling-mode. In the blink of an eye he had blocked the onslaught and before anything else had been said, Malfoy had been hunted down by a flock of birds, so angry that it had taken Severus to get them away.

_Avis Oppugno_ certainly was Granger's master-piece, now in his first year. Sometimes Minerva wondered, just what exactly he would become – he had potential, true potential, and if put on the right track, he could become Minister even, if he so wished. Smiling softly to herself, she shook her head as the boy exited the Hall again, not keen on staying for the Halloween Feast. It did not surprise her: to the introverted boy _Medlam's Theorem _was probably a lot more entertaining, she could not blame him.

* * *

Hermione never heard the hasty steps of her DADA-teacher as he scrambled into the Great Hall, neither did she hear the uproar caused by the one single word the utterly distraught man mumbled before he lost consciousness.

She missed the dramatic billow of her potion professor's cloak as he, quick footed as always and with his impossible long legs, exited the Hall in search of the uninvited beast that had found its way into the safe walls of the school.

_Medlam's Theorem_ was much too interesting.

Rufus Medlam had tried to find out why magic was even possible – many wizards had tried to find this out, but Medlam's Theorem was the first theory that did not involve pureblood blabbering about breeding, superiority, gifts of Merlin or what not. No, Medlam was the first decent wizard to theorize that perhaps magical particles float all around the world and that, technically, every person had magic. But some had more magic accumulated within them, just as somebody might get a crooked nose, and the magical particles could either act up, get out of control, or be actively controlled and used in the ways magicians use them. His theory was about to go farther than that even, but Hermione's enthusiasm was interrupted by a muffled sob.

The girl stopped dead in her tracks. Something inside her told her to go to the person and console them, something that she was sure was her female side. On the other hand, rational experience had taught her that wizards were not nice, particularly not to her, and this might just be another trap.

_So what, smooth seas don't make skilled sailors. If they try to attack you, what's the worse they can do? What haven't they hit you with already?_

Indeed, at this thought she shut her book and neared the toilets at the end of the hallway, where she supposed the crying lad to hide. Of course it could easily be an ambush, but if it really were then she'd learn from it, would harden from it – there were hardly spells that first-years could still throw at her that were new to her.

"Hello?"

The sobbing instantly ceased, when she cautiously stepped through but Hermione knew from her experience with Hermes that boys didn't like to be seen crying.

"Go away."

Yes, definitely a first year – she raised her eyes just so and saw, at the end of the small room, Seamus Finnigan, knees pulled up under his chest, crying his heart out. There was a letter at his feet that she guessed to be the cause of his ire.

"I won't." she said, feeling rather brave to be defying the one boy that had sent so many ink-pots her way already, but he was crying, and when people were vulnerable they needed someone. He sniffed in defeat and was about to stand up, threaten her, transform his sadness into anger and take that out on her, but she only shook her head. "Stay where you are, but if you want I can sit outside and keep watch, but one can hear you from outside…"

Her silent offer of an olive-branch seemed to surprise the boy, who instead nodded and wiped his eyes on his sleeves. Hermione nodded as well, about to leave the toilets again, when she bumped against something… disgusting.

It was dirty, thick-skinned and looked like an elephant – safe for the club in his gigantic hand and the stupidly, aggressive look on its face.

"Troll." She whispered as she scrambled back in fear.

* * *

Severus hurried. He knew that the beast was somewhere around here, it had to be, the stairs wouldn't be able to carry it and the half-sentient castle would not let it anywhere it could do grave harm, but _where_ could it be?

"Aaaaah!"

The squeal was girlish, his dour mind supplied for just an instant, before the rational part kicked in and defended that even Rubeus Hagrid would have sounded like a little girl if he would have been attacked by a troll… probably defenseless as well.

"Get away from the sinks!"

Severus was running by now – that was Granger's voice, he was sure of it. How the hell would he explain it to the orphanage if the _Shrimp_ wouldn't come back!

Just as he was about to round the corner, there was a loud crash, the sinks, he supposed and they probably splintered in all directions. The troll grunted hollowly, apparently pleased with its work.

"Oh you disgusting little…"

Severus' eyebrow shot up. _Little?_ Granger still dared to insult a troll even in such a situation? About to draw his wand and set an end to it, he caught sight of the ongoing matters within the toilet. _The Book-Shrimp_ was serving as shelter for one Seamus Finnigan, Granger's wand was raised and before Severus could even think of a fitting spell, Granger took the initiative.

"_Expelliarmus! Confundo! Stupefy!"_

Trolls weren't weak creatures that was for sure, however a few well placed spells and they were outdone. But for a first-year to do a troll in with spells he shouldn't even have heard of surprised even Severus. For a few moments all three of them stood stock-still, not daring to move, waiting for the Troll to do something – nothing happened.

"'s he dead?" the potions master heard the frightful whisper of Finnigan.

"He is not, Mister Finnigan." He said instead, lowering his wand as he entered the toilets, having his thoughts confirmed as he looked at the destroyed sinks, he glowered at the two Gryffindors. "30 points from Gryffindor, each, for destroying public property."

Taking each by the shoulder, he was about to steer them out of the loo, when Granger made a mad dive for something on the floor – it was a book, a library book to be exact. Severus watched as the boy fretted over its appearance. The cover was ripped and most pages were soaked from the wayward water that had leaked from the ruined sinks. Snape watched somehow sympathetically as tears – real tears – gathered in the eyes of the boy as he turned the book in his hands on their swift way to the headmaster's office. Granger hardly seemed as affected as Finnigan was by what had just happened, and Severus knew that he would have to – subtly – award Gryffindor points, after all he had saved a peer from certain death, even if that peer had dunked ink-pots on him on every given occasion.

But what would be a few points if knowledge was lost, and if Severus was not mistaken that was a booklet on _Medlam's Theorem_, a frustratingly interesting topic that he himself was all in for. So, as he ushered the two perplexed students on the moving stairs ascending to the headmaster's office, he carefully pried the ruined book out of Granger's hands and fixed it with a silent spell.

He didn't think he'd ever been on the receiving end of such a beaming smile during his whole teacher career.

* * *

Hermione felt strangely exhausted when she was excused from the headmaster's office for that evening. Even after Seamus had left, she had had to answer all the tricky questions the headmaster had had for her, and then her own head of house! If she wasn't so fond of the woman for being one of the few to teach effectively, she'd have said her Transfiguration Teacher suspected her to have ulterior moves… dark ones at that.

Right now, though, she felt drained, utterly defenseless and crippled – she felt so tired that she contemplated just sitting down on one of the stairs and leaning against the wall to sleep for some time. But that was not an option. _Glamours_ failed if you didn't actively sustain them the required magic.

"Hey! You!"

The girl turned so quickly that she felt dizzy at once – tiredness didn't go well with her apparently. Just before she was about to hit the floor, she was lucky enough to get supported by a pair of arms – small arms, so it was probably just a second- or even first-year like her.

"Steady, there. I can't carry you around, you know."

By the time she had regained her wits, she finally dared to look at her savior. She knew the face – it was Lysander Lovegood, a gentle soul, a bit out of line sometimes and most of the times rattling off facts about strange creatures that no one was all too sure about. The boy smiled at her.

"Your _Glamours_, Hermes, readjust your _Glamours_."

* * *

**First of all: THANK YOU Smurfgirlz, toriashley, arabellagrace, TequilaNervous, Pellaeonthewingedlion, JollyLoser and the guests for your reviews and THANK YOU neverend08, anthraquinblue, arabellagrace, Jellybean342, quattrecskids, krista04 and Jolly Loser for the Story Alerts/ Author Alerts/ Favs/ Followings/ and-whatever-I-have-forgotten. This adds up to so much love directed at me =)**

**Reviews any day let me work, rest and play ;)**


	7. Kinsmen

**New Chapter up! I get more and more proficient with keeping my promise ;P As usual, this story's characters belong to JKR and I took large liberties with her story twisting it to my liking. **

**Enjoy anyways.**

* * *

Lysander was only a few inches taller than her, but for a moment she considered entering a duel with him; she would probably be able to outsmart him even though she'd have to concentrate her magic on one strong blast – she _was_ low power after all.

"Don't please." The blond boy looked frightened, apprehensive – apparently having judged the glint in her eyes that people whispered to appear in her eyes now and then. "I only want to talk to you."

Bravely she nodded and when Lysander set to move, she followed him readily, fixing her _Glamours_ again – the drain she felt was immediate, but she'd be able to cut the dialogue short, hopefully or knock him out him with one strong blast…

Her companion vanished into an empty classroom that he locked and warded before turning to her and all of a sudden she was met with the gorgeous sight of a blond-locked, gray-eyed girl. "Hello." Her voice was incredibly melodic, beautiful and soft – it was almost a whisper. "I'm Luna, Luna Lovegood." The girl offered her hand.

_Birds of a feather…_ Hermione thought to herself. All pretenses fell away as Hermione let go of her _Glamours_ and took the hand of the girl. "Hermione Granger, glad to meet you."

And she was glad indeed to have met Luna.

* * *

"Ron, that's the vault Hagrid and I went to. Whatever was in there… it's here now…"

Hermione listened attentively to the excited whispers of Potter and Weasley – it was not hard to tell that they'd try to find whatever it was. But while they were still quizzing about _what_ it was, she knew at least already _where _it was. Surely the third-floor corridor wasn't off-limits for students just because the teachers felt like it.

As she mused over whether or not to tell Luna, Professor Quirrell passed her – she eyed him warily. Ever since the incident with the troll he gave off the strangest of vibes every time he passed her. As if he resented her for having defeated the beast. At least, she told herself, Professor Snape kept as close an eye on him as he could. She could tell by the way his eyes followed the stuttering man – though she wondered why Snape was limping…

* * *

"Think of it! Hagrid said all he ever wanted was a dragon and suddenly a guy appears, carrying a dragon's egg with him! I mean, really, how many people are there, running around with dragon eggs! I can't believe I've been so stupid!"

Dragon's egg? Had she really heard correctly? Whipping around, her eyes followed the quickly retreating forms of Potter and Weasley that made their way to Hagrid's hut at the border of the forest. Hermione's thinking was quick – certainly it couldn't be the thing that was hidden in the third corridor, now stone could only carry that much weight and surely the headmaster would not let a dragon house within the school, where it could escape and encounter students. However… the dragon thing _had _piqued her interest.

Only minutes later, she was pressed against the wall of Hagrid's hut, listening to the voices through an open window in the back – soaking the information up like a sponge, even if the words had no meaning to her, yet. Who the hell was 'Fluffy' and why would he fall asleep when hearing music? And Nicolas Flamel? Of course she had read the name, somewhere, already but at the very moment, couldn't connect it to the actual information she had surely stored in her brain. But as always, she made a note to look the man up in the library – books had most answers after all.

"It's Malfoy!"

Hermione turned to stone as she heard the name from the inside of the hut, pressing her frame further into the stone walls. Any encounters with the blond Slytherin had left her surer each time that he knew something was not quite right with 'Hermes Granger' – but until now she had always been able to dissuade him or simply overcome him in a forbidden duel in the corridors. Nothing happened though, and when the boys inside hurried out of the hut and after the apparently retreating Slytherin, Hermes Granger stayed undetected.

It was well past curfew already, and Hermione knew that she would have to be careful as she trudged on her tip-toes through the corridors, thinking about what she had heard. _Fluffy_, whoever or whatever that was, protected the something from the Gringott's vault – she was sure of that now – and judging by the _Prophet's_ news, somebody else wanted that something as well. The big question was: _Who?_

"Mister Granger."

_Shite._ She stopped dead in her tracks, just about to turn the corner. That drawl belonged to one particular teacher – and while she admired him for his knowledge and expertise, she also knew that there was no escaping now. Giving up with a sigh, she turned around, head bowed and hands clasped in front of her in a show of embarrassment. "Professor Snape."

Hermione did not need to lift her head to know that the man stood in front of her, back ramrod straight, his arms crossed in front of his chest, looking down his nose.

"Fifty points from Gryffindor, Mister Granger, for being out after curfew, and you might want to join Messers Potter, Weasley and Malfoy here – they are on their way to detention. I see it fit you join."

And join she did – without an utter of complaint, she stepped behind him having only recently noticed the three boys trailing behind him and his billowing cloak, he must have encased them in a silencing spell or she would have heard them approaching. The Gryffindors nodded at her. Ever since Halloween things had mellowed down. She was, if not respected, at least tolerated by her house-comrades, and the attacks on her person had ceased completely. She nodded back in greeting.

* * *

Hagrid was amiable. As soon as they had discerned their cause for having entered the Forbidden Forest, they split up in groups of three. Ronald with Malfoy and Hagrid, and Hermione with Harry and Fang – sure Fang was a coward, but it gave her some sense of security, _there is strength in numbers_ as they said.

"You know… I'm sorry for having treated you like that." Harry suddenly spoke up. They had been walking deeper into the forest, silent and with perked ears. The boy didn't look at her, but her father had taught her, unknowingly, that an embarrassed man never looked into the eyes of the person he was apologizing to.

"I think you know a great deal,… Hermes." The lantern in his right hand went out, but still she felt strangely comforted.

"Thank you, Harry."

They continued in silence, side by side and for some time nothing happened. That was until they arrived in a small basin of tree-roots and Hermione caught sight of the dead unicorn – dread washed over her. Something was sucking its blood. Harry, as if struck by lightning, sacked to his knees, holding his head in silent agony. And sure as hell, they were detected.

"Harry? Harry." The boy didn't respond and she knew it was futile to try to have him run away from the scene – the figure, previously sprawled on the ground, now approached them and she gripped her wand tightly. As a girl, she had never been a fighter in her own world, had always backed down and left the fighting to the stronger boys – but this world, this magical wizard world, made her fight more often and more vehemently, than she had ever expected it to.

"_Stupefy!"_

The thing that had risen to its total height in front of them, was repelled and thrown backwards, vanishing in the mist and the dark of the night enclosing them. There was a moment where everything was silent and only her blood rang in her ears – and then she heard the hooves. Pivoting around, she kept her figure in front of Harry, who now seemed to feel better, but was still looking warily into the direction where the figure had disappeared to – Hermione followed his gaze, but could detect nothing.

And just when she turned around again, to see where the sound of hooves came from, she found herself face to face with one of the most mysterious creatures she had ever seen. Her wand was immediately pointed at his chest, hex at the ready.

"Calm, Hermes – I am not here to do harm."

By the way his eyes flickered to the boy, she guessed that he was interested in Harry Potter, but seeing as his hands were held in a placating manner, Hermione decided to trust him; she'd probably still be able to stun him if he were to try something stupid. She lowered her wand and the Centaur stepped closer.

"Is he gone?"

Not knowing what exactly the Centaur was talking about, but guessing that he had meant the figure that had just been about to attack them, she nodded, again looking into the direction where the thing had vanished to. At her feet, Harry released a deep breath.

"You alright?" The boy nodded.

Firenze, as the Centaur was called, asked them to hop on his back in order for him to bring them back to Hagrid and on their way explained to them the use of unicorn-blood and she shuddered at the thought of a cursed life, who could possibly be so desperate as to cling to such a life?

* * *

"Nicolas Flamel – renowned alchemist and first as well as only person to have created the Sorcerer's Stone. The latter is said to have the ability to turn any metal into gold and gift the possessor with eternal life." Luna read to her.

_Again, the eternal life_ – Hermione looked up. Anyone would want that, granted, but who was desperate enough to feed of unicorn-blood and then try to get the Sorcerer's Stone? There were thousands of possibilities on this one though, and she knew just one person – the only person – who'd be able to tell her who searched for the stone.

For Hermione was sure, this was exactly what was hidden in the third-floor corridor, what else should be hidden there? It was a dangerous thing if it was sought, students could be put at risk… She needed to find out who was behind it.

* * *

"Harry, who would want eternal life, even if half of it would be forever cursed?"

His eyes widened at her question over the dining table and for a moment he said nothing, exchanging looks with Ronald, who finally nodded. It appeared that she was finally to be let in on the secret that had, until now, only been known to Ron Weasley and Harry Potter – it almost seemed, as if she would be considered a friend.

She was exhilarated at the thought, but right now the secret was more important. "Lord Voldemort." Harry whispered.

He continued to explain to her, in a hushed voice, what his history with him was – she really couldn't believe that such a huge part of history had simply slipped her notice, even with all the books she had been reading, even though books on that topic were probably found in the _Restricted Section_ only – and that the evil wizard now sought his comeback.

Yes, she decided after having listened to Harry, such a person would probably want eternal life… and he would also consider a life that would be partly cursed, he'd be that desperate.

"We think that Snape wants the stone for Voldemort – he would seem the type for it." Ron whispered at the end, and she only nodded, her eyes involuntarily slipping to the Head Table. Miss McGonagall and Professor Snape were both looking at her and she simply answered their stares with one of her own, lost in her thoughts.

Yes, she agreed that Snape would look the type for it, but she was convinced – mind you, by gut feeling only – that it wasn't Snape that was Voldemort's right hand. He'd be far too obvious and he was probably too headstrong, no way he'd ever cower to a person such as Voldemort. If she were an evil megalomaniac on her way back to life, she'd chose someone weak-willed, someone who would look as if he couldn't harm a fly… someone like Professor Quirrell.

Seeing as Luna had helped her with Nicolas Flamel and, as earlier established, there was strength in numbers, she decided to let Luna in on the secret. The boys were up for something idiotic, and if she were to correct their errors, it would be better to have Luna with her, even if as cover only.

* * *

**There it is! Lysander is Luna and the original story is setting in. **

**Thank you arabellagrace, lostmariner4803, LittlebigmouthOKC, toriashley, TequilaNervous, Inusagi (have a little patience there, it will all unfold), Lythandae, Anonymous (that's a harsh way of depicting it, but I am thinking of it), Lost-puppyEYES, Smurfgirlz, SamMacKennaJustineTaylorFlac k, Dia, Joy and the three unnamed Guests for the reviews, they keep me working hard.**

**Thank you too, Blaubart, bushyhaired-american-nerd, pinknose1, littlebigmouthOKC, lostmariner4803, EtCadetSatanStabit, jbaby, nerd-herd leader, mrsdemon, iiPanicProneFish, Lost-puppyEYES and PrincessLonesome for the Story Alerts.**

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**And thank you Smurfgirlz for the Author Alert.**

**Did I forget anyone? I hope I didn't - thank you for all the attention, it feels like standing in the spotlight ;) I hope you liked the chapter! Next one is up soon! **


	8. The Philosopher's Stone

**And here it is. I do not know why, but writing this chapter was somewhat interesting... it took me a little longer than usual to gather my thoughts and stuff. BUT here it is! **

**I have taken a lot of parts from The Philosopher's Stone directly, but you might have figured out by now ;)**

**The usual disclaimer applies. PLUS: I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

And indeed, something stupid the boys did. She was glad she'd prepared a signal for Luna (actually she had just borrowed Hedwig to knock at Luna's window) when she was woken up by the shuffling sounds of feet and complaints. Silently and unmoving she lay in her bed, waiting for the moment, when the boys would feel secure enough not to watch out for her – it did not take long. Once they were out of the room, she sent off her signal and followed the two.

Covered by nothing but the shadows she danced through the nightly halls of Hogwarts hot on the trails of Harry and Ron, her wand ever at the ready – it surely wouldn't do to end up the way poor Neville had.

Luna waited for her behind the door to the third-floor corridor, having watched Harry and Ron enter the one door at the end of the corridor – and so both of them neared it. Strange howling sounds emitted from behind the wooden door. Hermes' eyes narrowed as he put his wand at the ready.

"What do you think we'll find there?"

Lysander shrugged unconcerned. "It's not a dragon, they howl differently."

And really, a dragon it was not. As soon as the door yielded under their wands and gave way to the small room, the two girls disguised as boys faced a three-headed dog – _Fluffy_, apparently. Ron and Harry were trying to outrun him, while opening the door on the floor, but to no avail, the guardian was vigilant – luckily for the two new intruders though, the Cerberus was so engrossed with keeping the running Gryffindors at bay, that it had not even noticed one of the new figures.

"_Musico."_ Hermes' wand emitted soft music, placating and quickly putting the Cerberus to sleep, much to the astonishment of Harry and Ron. Hermione was glad beyond reason to have eavesdropped on the two and Hagrid, as well as having learned this particular spell. Who'd have known that a Cerberus of such a caliber could be lulled to sleep by classical music?

"So this is Fluffy." Lysander awed, carefully rounding the sleeping beast and observing it with big eyes. He had this way of observing strange things – and this animal certainly was strange. The boys stood up and looked at Hermes with big eyes, as he freed the door in the floor from the protective paw of the three-headed dog.

"How'd you know?" Ron croaked uncertainly, Hermione smirked at him.

"Not only Malfoy has big ear, Ron. Did you never wonder why I was caught in the corridors on the same evening as the three of you?"

By the way his cheeks reddened, she could tell that, no, apparently that thought had not crossed his mind until now. She nodded towards the pit in front of them – it was dark as hell, and there was no telling what awaited them down there. "In we go." And before anyone could utter a defiance, she had jumped.

* * *

"Shite!"

Harry yelped as the root wound around his throat, tightening its grip. Hermione watched with rapt attention, shocked into a pillar of salt as the root wound over her but let go of her when it found no resistance – only when she landed on her buttocks in the small cave beneath the roots did her brain catch up. A devil's snare.

Luna, having watched Hermione vanish, nonchalantly stopped struggling and soon sunk away.

"Hermes! Lysander!"

"Ronald will you relax! We're fine! Just below you actually… just… STOP STRUGGLING!" Hermione fought hard to keep her voice as masculine as possible, especially as her newly found friends were about to get crushed by devil's root.

"How can I relax when it's strangling meeeeeeee!" he wailed, louder even when the root's grip tightened – Harry was turning a strange color. There had to be something she could do…

"Professor Sprout told us never to walk into that one greenhouse, you know the one that's all darkened – she said if we'd go there, we'd meet the devil in person…" Luna recounted with her breathy demeanor.

At first Hermione didn't understand at all – why would Luna talk about Professor Sprout _now_ of all times? Why would-?

"Darkness… the devil's root likes darkness."

"_Lumos solem." _Luna breathed as from above her, Harry tumbled through the whole the roots had left when they'd retreated from the shine. Luna pouted at her wand. "Apparently it's not enough to let Ron go as well…" she mused, but Hermione had already drawn her wand.

Concentrating on the roots above her, she whispered. _"Laconum inflamare."_ In the book she'd read not too long ago this kind of fire had been described as 'bluebell flames' – as long as they were floating in the air they were harmless, but once they'd touched surface they'd develop a burning power that could be compared to a bonfire.

They tiny blue-bubbles floated from her wand, directly towards the roots and upon hitting them, ignited a fire and light that had the roots completely retreat, freeing Ronald finally. He was a horrible sight when he joined them on the ground, but he was alive and breathing and that was already something.

Hermione looked at him and then at Harry. "I'm not sure how much you guys think of it, but seeing as we are technically protecting a national treasure within these halls, I think that we should gather as much information about the protective mechanisms as possible."

From the floor, a wheezing Ron rolled his eyes. "Can you not once stop analyzing everything? I swear you should have been put in Ravenclaw for all that thinking you do."

She resumed to glare at the red-head, imitating the harsh features of Professor Snape – judged by the way that Ron shut at least up, she gathered that she had some success.

"I think that each house-professor put his protection here. Fluffy was obviously Dumbledore's idea, he'd never have asked Hagrid for it otherwise. The devil's snare was Miss Sprout's idea, I recon there'll be a protection from Miss McGonagall, Professor Flitwick and Professor Snape. Also Dumbledore must have known he's keeping the treasure from Voldemort, so maybe he's sent Quirrell, seeing as he is Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher… and then I wouldn't put it past Dumbledore to put a last hurdle in the way of the one person seeking the stone."

Harry hardly listened, she could tell, and Ronald didn't either – they wanted to move on, but Ron was incapacitated at the very moment. Luna however did listen, nodding her head in acquiescence before she informed them about the time: it was two hours after curfew; they still had the whole night.

As they walked into the next room, all they could hear was the gently fluttering of wings – there were no obstacles visible, and Ronald, ever the enthusiast, ran over to the next door, only to find it locked.

"_Alohomora."_ The door still didn't budge, only now did he turn to them, shrugging. "It was worth a try at least, no?"

Silently they stood in the room until finally Luna detected what looked like brooms under a dusty carpet.

"Brooms? Whatever for? Should we clean the whole room or what?" Ron sounded unconvinced – the other three remembered however that brooms in the wizarding world were hardly used for cleaning. They craned their necks to finally find the source of the fluttering.

"Are those keys?" Hermione asked finally, squinting her eyes. "Yeah." Harry whispered; Hermione nodded in respect – it was one thing to be able to find the key they searched for, and then to also find it flying… that certainly was a task.

However, Harry was not the youngest seeker in a century for nothing, despite his glasses – or maybe because of them – he had eyes like a hawk. "We're looking for an old key," Ron guessed, "If the lock is anything to go by anyways. It's rusty… I guess the key is too."

"There." Harry pointed his finger up, but Hermione could not pinpoint the key that would fit the description. "The one with the broken wings, it appears it has already been captured none too gently once." The broken wing was indeed a dead give-away.

"One needs to stay down here, in case something happens."

Luna volunteered – she never liked flying anyways and so Ron, Hermione and Harry mounted their respective brooms. Before they took off, Harry gave a few orders.

"Hermes I want you to stay down here, just to assure that if it flies down and both of us are up there someone will block its escape route. Ron will keep to my side, is that alright?"

Hermione shrugged; content that she would not need to fly zig-zag in order to capture the key. She was not averse to flying, but she still felt that it was somewhat unnatural to leave the ground to aspire to heights as Harry did when flying during the Quidditch practices and matches.

She was torn out of her reverie though when Harry's yell reached her ears. "IT'S COMING DOWN!"

And indeed, at neck-breaking speed she could see the key making its way towards her, she shot up, intent on grabbing it, when she realized – belatedly – that Ron had shot downwards, his hand reaching for the key as well. Her eyes widened at the realization that they'd collide.

In the last possible moment, she swung her body, tilting her broom ever so slightly aside – however, Ron had done so as well, hoping, as Hermione had, that the other one would reach for the key.

"Got it!" Lysander's breathy call reached her ears and she smiled as she looked at the two flying boys – at least someone had reacted quickly enough.

* * *

The next room found to be a chess-board and Ron was, for once, the first to catch on as for the utility. "We have to play ourselves across the room."

Hermione was positive that this was McGonagall's idea – now and then she had seen the head of her house with a male Professor playing a bout of chess, she was brilliant for a woman and had never disappointed a chess partner. As Ron positioned them, she wondered just how they would be going to make it, after all, the figures were charmed.

"Say, is this normal chess or is this wizarding chess?"

Ronald answered her question by sending a peasant forth, seeing as they were black, he only had to put his peasant into the right position. Horrified Hermione watched as the figure was blown into shambles by the opposite pawn. A silent 'oh' escaped her mouth.

She had never been particularly fond of chess… no actually that was a lie. She would have been fond of it, no question, it was a logical game with a great strategic aspect – but as a girl she had never been allowed the joy of the game, maybe she'd change that.

It wasn't until only a few of their figures stayed, when suddenly she realized something that did not quite sit with her.

"Ronald…" she said uneasy into the silence that had settled over the room after the Queen had yet again struck down a figure. The red-head nodded.

"You've figured it out then, Hermes."

"What?" Harry yelled panicked, turning between Hermes, Ron and Lysander, who stood none too far away from the King.

"There is a possibility to end this game… but it will be on my head, quite literally as well…" Ron faded out, seeing Harry's eyes go big.

"No."

"Harry it is the only possibility. We won't get another chance as this. Ron has worked hard to get us here, but now we need… well… we need this round to win." Even though he swallowed angrily, he said nothing and so Ron stepped up to the Queen.

"Check."

She closed her eyes, biting on her lip when she heard the dull sound of metal against head – Ron had been hit and by the looks of it, he was unconscious. Hermione, opened her eyes when she saw Harry still rooted to the spot – his eyes glued to her form. She was wary, tired actually, but she knew that if Voldemort was after the Philosopher's Stone then she had to pull this through.

Hurriedly she ran up to the King. "Check mate." The figure threw its crown to her feet – the session was won.

* * *

Luna stayed with Ronald.

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked her – and the double question, carefully wrapped into one solely, was not lost to the blonde.

"I am, Hermes. You are of more use to Harry with your spell repertoire, I'm worn out actually and I don't know if that would be to Harry's advantage. You two go ahead, I stay here."

Hermione understood more than was said and the four parted, leaving the unconscious Ronald with Lysander, while Hermes and Harry turned to enter the next room.

"I'd say we're up for Quirrell's or Snape's quest soon." Hermione informed him, just as they opened the door. Harry was about to answer something, but the sheer, disgusting smell that encountered them made him unable to do so.

"Ugh." Holding their hands over their noses, they entered the room, their eyes immediately glued to the troll that lay at the far end of the room. Blood oozed out of a wound on its head – there was no doubt that it emitted the disgusting smell.

As they had passed it, Harry shuddered. "Well, at least we didn't have to handle it." She was aware that he tried to be positive, while his mindset was anything but. As soon as they had closed the door behind them, wards sprang up, enveloping the door in purple flames – they shied back.

At the other end of the room, a door emitted black flames and in the middle of the room stood a table with several potions.

"Professor Snape's riddle then." Hermione neared it quicker than Harry, glad to find a small scroll of parchment on the table – she unrolled it.

"Brilliant." She breathed and smiled at Harry, whose eyes were glued to her, it was very obvious that he was not in the mood to smile at all. "It's a puzzle – logic. Most wizards don't possess an ounce of it, they'd be stuck here forever."

Harry, even though he looked at her as though she was crazy, motioned his head toward the parchment. "What does it say then if this is so logical?"

Hermione smiled as she read over the lines again. "I almost can't believe he's resorted to something so muggle… it's certainly Slytherin." In secret her admiration for the snarky man had just reached a new level – for anyone who would have managed to cheat in the other tests, they would have been stuck here. She started to read:

"_Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind,_

_Two of us will help you, which ever you would find,_

_One among us seven will let you move ahead,_

_Another will transport the drinker back instead,_

_Two among our number hold only nettle wine,_

_Three of us are killers, waiting bidden in line._

_Choose, unless you wish to stay here forevermore,_

_To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four:_

_First, however slyly the poison tries to hide_

_You will always find some on nettle wine's left side;_

_Second, different are those who stand at either end,_

_But if you would move onward, neither is your friend;_

_Third, as you see clearly, all are different size,_

_Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides;_

_Fourth, the second left and the second on the right_

_Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight."_

Oh and such a cunning man he was to put the riddle in a poem on top of that. Of course wizards were familiar with poems, but the steady onslaught of information and not at all organized and always about different potions, never giving a clear idea about the position – this was indeed Slytherin.

Finally she grabbed a potion and pushed it into Harry's hands. "This one will get you to move on… I can't follow you though. I'd like to – I most certainly would, but the potion is not enough for two and I want neither of us to experience just how much those flames do indeed hurt. So… I'll take the one potion that takes me back to Lysander and Ron… and then we'll wait for you."

Harry did not seem convinced, but when she sprouted off a bit of nonsense, giving him a huge ego-boost, he finally acquiesced, letting Hermes drink the potion and finally drinking his own – they moved through the portals at equal pace.

* * *

Hermione felt at unease – not only because of the stinking troll in the room, but because Harry had just gone off to probably face one of the most evil wizards again. While Hermione understood that he had already once survived a critical confrontation, she could only pray that the scar on his forehead would somehow serve him as shield this time around as well. One could hope at least.

Returning to the chess-room, she soon saw that Ronald was still unconscious, while Luna had disposed of her _Glamours_ – she now sat with Ron's head on her knees and waited for her.

"Is Harry…?" she dared not to talk further. Hermione smiled raggedly.

"He's moved on… if my estimations have been correct then he should still face Dumbledore's last hurdle. But I'm more than sure that he'll manage it – he is a great wizard after all."

Luna smiled at her with dreamy eyes, before she asked about the next two rooms – Hermione recounted about the troll, before she pulled out Snape's poem and handed it to her. Luna quickly flew over it.

"My… it's certainly not easy – congratulations Hermione, I bet Snape would be furious if he found out that a Gryffindor first-year cracked his puzzle."

For a moment the two of them were silent in trepidation, before they silently started giggling, trying to imagine their professor's face. Surely he'd deduct house points beyond reason, simply because his pride had been hurt by none other than the _Book-Shrimp_. Oh what she'd give to see his face.

It took them some time to calm down and Hermione looked at their unconscious companion. "Well, I guess we should somehow transport him back, now shouldn't we? I have no idea how to treat an unconscious person and it wouldn't do for him to not get some medical help…"

So Ronald was carefully hoisted up on a transformed stretcher and dutifully carried back through the big room. When they passed the room full of keys Hermione did not notice it. Only when they reached a certain impasse in the cave below the devil's snare, Hermione suddenly pointed out that the snare was not even moving.

Luna's eyebrows went up when she went to touch the snare, but it did not even move. "Try your flame thing again… it should react to that, shouldn't it?"

However the plant also didn't react to Hermione's bluebell flames – as if the whole magic had been drained out of it. Hermione gasped.

"Medlam's theorem!" she hollered, almost stumbling over Ron as she stepped back. "A great wizard can draw magic from his surroundings in order to nurture his own magical expense!"

It took a time for Luna to understand. "So you mean Harry is drawing magic from his surroundings?!" she asked excitedly.

Hermione wasn't so sure it was Harry who drew magic from his environment – it was complicated, advanced magic… but perhaps not too advanced for…

"Voldemort!" Luna suddenly gasped. "Oh God! Hermione you have to return, immediately! If Voldemort draws power, then the puzzles will be off, right? Harry needs you right now! I have no idea about spells and stuff but you-!"

She had already pushed Hermione into the next room and before she stumbled, she started running. Luna was right, the protective puzzles were out of order, and when Hermione arrived in the last room, all she saw was a gray cloud of ash winding out of the room. Harry lay on the floor, a blood-red stone in his hand.

* * *

Hermione sat at the table and smiled at the boys around her. They still called her the _Book-Shrimp_, however nowadays it seemed to be an almost affectionate nickname instead of silly name calling. She could hardly believe that it had already been a year that she had spent at this marvelous school – she had learned so much, had taught herself and had achieved so much.

Next to her, Harry flashed her a big grin – he had gotten out of the hospital wing only a few hours prior and had been welcomed into the dorm with much cheer and hollering. It did not matter that the House Cup would go, yet again, to Slytherin – they had the satisfaction of having outmaneuvered the Head Snake himself. Unfortunately Hermione had never gotten to see his face – the riddle was still hidden in her trunk in one of her many books, she'd keep it.

The hall quieted as the headmaster stood up. "Another year gone!" Dumbledore said cheerfully. "And I must trouble you with an old man's wheezing waffle before we sink our teeth into our delicious feast. What a year it has been! Hopefully you heads are all a little fuller than they were...you have the whole summer ahead of get them nice and empty before next year starts... Now, as I understand it, the House Cup here needs awarding, and the points stand thus: In fourth place, Gryffindor, with three hundred and twelve points; in third, Hufflepuff, with three hundred and fifty-two; Ravenclaw has four hundred and twenty-six and Slytherin, four hundred and seventy-two."

Snape looked positively smug in his seat at the Head Table, and Hermione, despite herself, clapped – out of courtesy as did the rest of the hall, there were few besides the very house that were enthusiastic about the outcome.

"Yes, yes, well done, Slytherin," said Dumbledore. "However, recent events must be taken into account. I have a few last-minute points to dish out. Let me see. Yes... First to Mr. Ronald Weasley... for the best-played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in many years. I award Gryffindor House fifty points."

Her table roared with the many clapping and foot-stamping that was done – Ronald was patted all over again, and his older twin brothers, even hugged him close to them. Even if it still meant that Slytherin had won the House Cup, at least they were not the last now. But Dumbledore was not finished.

"Second, to Mister Hermes Granger...for the use of cool logic in the face of fire, I award Gryffindor House sixty points."

Hermione, for the first time in her life, found herself to be the center of pleasant attention – people congratulated her and smiled at her with big smiles, they had, after all, just come closer to the House Cup yet again.

"Third," Dumbledore's voice boomed, "to Mr. Harry Potter..." The room went deadly quiet. "...for pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor House fifty points."

Amongst the students there was a deadly hush – Gryffindor was equally up with Slytherin, and only thanks to these 'last minute points'.

"Fourth… even though not Gryffindor, I find it necessary to award thirty points to Mister Lysander Lovegood, for heartfelt loyalty and quick thinking." The Ravenclaw smiled at Hermione, who returned the big smile.

"There are all kinds of courage," said Dumbledore finally, smiling. "It takes a great deal to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends. I therefore award ten points to Mr. Neville Longbottom."

The poor boy had no idea what hit him – Hermione smiled at him, and patted his back friendly. Harry and Ron had recounted that Neville had tried to stop them from exiting the Tower in fear that they might lose even more points to Gryffindor; Hermione had later quickly blanketed him and put a pillow under his head.

"Which means," Dumbledore smiled as he stood up, "we need a little change of decoration." He needed but clap his hands and hold them out, it seemed, and the banners changed from Slytherin green to Gryffindor burgundy – the House Cup, for the first time since six years, went to another house but Slytherin.

Hermione, as she celebrated with her house mates, felt for the first time that she had not only done something monumentally right, but that she had also finally found a place where she belonged and could be accepted. If not as witch, then as powerful, mindful wizard.

* * *

**Thank you TequilaNervous ( , Harry too is an orphan, 2. just you wait), FiaBerns (I'm sorry about the flow, I hope though that you can understand why I have to jump several details of the original story), toriashley, bushyhaired-american-nerd and EtCadetSatanStabit for the loverly reviews =)**

**Furthermore thanks to asnapeintime, FiaBerns, Paloma Gomes Hannah Bowers, MinervaJean, Poetica Licentia and Tenru Wingstorm for the Story Alerts and Paloma Gomes and romyblossom for the favs.**

**And lastly (but of course not least), my thanks to quattrecskids for the Author Alert. **

**Snape's poem is directly from the book - just thought to mention it. **

**I hope you liked it! Next chapter soon! (Sooner than this one was anyways)**

**REVIEW PLEASE (they make me so happy =D)**


	9. Dos

**So, I kind of sat all night to write... before reading your lovely reviews ;)**

**It is Hermione's second year, what will happen? **

**Enjoy.**

* * *

Hermione pushed her hair out of her face as she set the box of firewhiskey on the counter. Tom, the landlord of the Leaky Cauldron, had kept true to his promise and had employed her for the summer, even giving her a little wage for the work she did. Mostly she carried boxes from A to B and cleared tables. It was good work, honest and tiring and Hermione relished in it.

On a Sunday morning, she had gone to her old home and had observed it for a whole day – Tom had given her off, thinking she'd go back to her orphanage one last time. Hermes had grown, but she could see the sad little something in his eyes whenever he would look at the garden. Her father had become harsher even than when she had been with them and her mother talked even less.

It wasn't until she finally saw Aunt May being allowed into the house and the company of her father that she smiled – Aunt May would make it all better, she would make the pain of the people around her go away, she'd make Hermes smile again and would get her mother to talk. And surely, if her father had allowed her on the compound already, she did him some good as well.

As she turned from her house a last time, she never noticed Hermes' eyes resting on her retreating back – the young boy quirked a smile and went back to his family.

Over the two months of pushing boxes around, Hermione had developed quite some muscles – some of which she hadn't even been aware of, but were positive that ached after her first week of work. But Tom was content with her, she never once uttered a word of complaint, and when the list for the books and tools for school came in, Hermione was proud to go pay it all with her own money.

* * *

September the first found Hermione on the Platform 9 ¾ again, a new book in hand and, yet again, the pretty owl on her shoulder that had found her the very first day. The book had been a gift from Tom, who'd insisted she'd take it as an additional token. She admitted that she had looked at it more often than not while they had passed _Flourish and Blott's_ on their way to yet another errand.

"You've done an exemplary job, lad. Better than any of my former helpers… so I think it's good to say that this is yours and you're welcome back next year." He had clapped her shoulder and had sent her on her way.

Hermione was sure that, as she settled into an empty compartment, sticking her nose into the book, this year would be at least as interesting as the last year. For now though, she was totally enraptured by _Wandless Magic_ – a simple title for such an interesting book.

* * *

Sitting at the table with her friends that she had seen but two months ago the last time, she smiled and applauded as her house grew bigger by the first years that were sorted. Harry and Ron were not present at the entry feast, but she did not worry too much.

Especially Harry had somehow left a sore spot within her, he had not even once responded to her letters and finally she had given up writing – the pretty owl had always come back, hooting soothingly and clipping her beak at her.

Apparently it was not a school owl, though, for sometimes she'd fly off and only return days later, but Hermione never found out who she did belong to. Also, it was highly irregular that an owl would simply fly off to be with another wizard if it already belonged to one master – but it seemed as if this particular owl did find her presence comfortable.

* * *

She sighed as she lowered her head back into her book again, swallowing up the information. Harry and Ron were both angry – very much so – at Snape, for almost having had them dispelled and for something, or somebody for having closed the gates. Ron's mother had sent a _Howler_ and the poor guy had had to open it at the breakfast table – oh it had been horrible… and at the same time very satisfying to see that a woman stood up against a man, even if it was her own son. Molly Weasley, even if she had never attended the magical school, surely had a voice to reckon with.

Now though they had to sit through detention with Lockhart and McGonagall – Ron was sure that Harry got the better cards, having to sit his detention with Lockhart, who was apparently famous and well-liked and what not everything else.

In Hermione's opinion Lockhart was a fool – he was too sure of himself and had not even managed to keep _pixies_ in a cage… okay, no that was wrong. He had set them free deliberately, but he hadn't been able to put them back in. Sincerely… what kind of professor was he anyways? And how the hell should he have been able to defeat a _Banshee_? It was unthinkable.

"Well," Harry sighed as he closed his book and rolled up his parchment for Transfiguration, "I'm down in the Great Hall, grabbing something, I'm incredibly hungry after my brain burnt all those calories doing homework." As if on cue Ron's stomach growled loudly in protest, the red-head looked ashamed, but Hermione only smiled.

"Maybe Ron should go with you. Honestly, I don't think you'll do much more than that for today, Ron. Your stomach is clearly demanding to be fed and an empty stomach does not work well." It was what Tom had told her all the time – and she had eaten heartily after her third day of work, and boy had she ever so needed it.

The red-head nodded and soon the two boys were outside, lost in her thoughts she looked after the two. Sometimes, she could swear that Ron blushed of entirely different reasons… and sometimes she could see Harry's eyes and only for a moment she imagined them to be smouldering. She shook her head and went back to her book – maybe she just imagined it.

* * *

It was hardly well into October when the first incident happened. It hit Ms Norris, Filch's cat, and if she had to place a bet, she'd have said it was petrified, but Filch would not let anyone explain – he was panicked, and really, she couldn't blame him, after all Ms Norris was the only individual who was voluntarily around him.

"You murdered her!"

Hermione turned still as stone as the Squib bore his eyes into hers, for the split of a second she was hundred percent certain that he was completely out of his mind, crazy with pain and that he would do something really, very unsavoury to the three of them. Oh if only she wouldn't have listened to Harry...

"Now, now, Argus." Dumbledore's voice cut through and she almost instantly relaxed, looking into his direction. Behind him, Snape had emerged, his eyes flittering over the trio, before resting on her and not leaving her – she only realized belatedly that she had entered a staring duel with him.

"It seems she has been petrified, but as I remember Miss Sprout's Alrauns are almost ready to be used in potions." Out of the corner of her eye she could see Miss Sprout nodding enthusiastically, her head a bright red, as it always was – due to her blood pressure, Hermione mused. "We'll be able to restore Miss Norris as soon as possible, Argus."

Filch still demanded retribution – he got retribution, in form of detention for Hermione, Ron and Harry.

* * *

"So you hear voices." Hermione sighed as they fell into their beds in the evening. Harry grunted in response, starting to undress.

Ever since she had gotten rid of her shyness to see them in certain states of undress, Hermione had gotten an eyeful of how a proper wizard should look and had adapted her _Glamours_. Add to that that she had developed some muscles over the summer on her own and she looked exactly like any of the boys... safe for her hair. Hermione continued to muse over her thoughts as she undressed herself, finally sure enough that her _Glamours _would keep her covered, she knew they did. "As far as I know that is not exactly... usual, Harry."

The black-haired boy stopped mid-air as he was about to draw his sleeping shirt, made by Ron's mum, over his head. He looked at Ron, who uneasily nodded, Harry motioned for her to continue and she did so.

"Apparently though, Voldemort himself had been a Parsletongue and if I would make an educated guess, I'd say that... well, that some of his powers were transferred to you when you got your scar. It seems logical, seeing as neither of your parents was known to have disposed of the gift to talk to snakes... and Harry, before Voldemort, Salazar Slytherin himself was the only wizard with the ability to talk to snakes."

As they lay down, their heads were set on everything but sleep. Hermione bid the boys good-night as they settled for sleep, and drew her curtains around her bed. It was nothing unusual, seeing as normally she'd still read well into the night and the boys were positively disturbed by the light emanating from her wand.

Of course that had only been a ruse to let the boys stop ask questions whenever she drew the curtains of her bed, she knew that her _Glamours _slipped when she slept – it wouldn't do to be discovered at night when the boys would go out for shenanigans, or when Ron would go to the kitchen because he was hungry, or when Neville would wake up from another nightmare or Harry even. No it was safer if she drew the curtains and lied a little... in the end, no one was hurt.

* * *

"That bludger's been tampered with." Hagrid scoffed as they followed the happenings on the Quidditch field. Harry was being followed by a more than persistent bludger that would risk his life every second. He'd taken to moving strategically over the field, managing to somewhat hinder the Slytherins in the wake – however the bludger persisted.

It became apparent to Hermione that whoever had charmed the bludger had not done it in favour of the game, if that would have been the case, the jinx would have been lifted in the according time – but it hadn't.

She held her breath as Harry dived for the Snitch, Malfoy close to him, but while the Slytherin had the advantage of the newer broom, Harry was more or less used to life-threatening situations and a rampant bludger was nothing short of a life-threatening situation.

In the end, she ran on the field, watching horrified as Harry barely evaded the plundering bludger, wands were not allowed on the Quidditch field and hers had been thrown from her fingers the very moment she had set foot on the surface – but Hermione prevailed, stretching her hand towards the bludger.

"_Finite incatatem!"_

So yes, she still had to say the spell, but she watched satisfied as the bludger dissolved into little pieces – she had just successfully cast a wandless spell. Of course Lockhart had to mess it all up in the end with his more than useless spell, removing Harry's bone completely from his arm.

On the bright side, he had not just gotten killed.

* * *

Luna looked at her with great interest. "A duel club? Do you think they will really let us try that?"

Hermione shrugged as they continued their way to Care of Magical Creatures. "I guess that they feel it's the sensible thing to do... after all, first it was Miss Norris, now however they caught Colin Creevey as well. I mean, he's only a first-year and it wasn't below them to petrify him so bad it had not even worn off. Whoever is low enough to attack a first-year is low enough to attack the rest of the school as well."

That, at least, she reasoned to herself. Dumbledore was scared that Hogwarts was not the safe place it had been before anymore and he wished, therefore, that his students would know how to defend themselves.

Hermione, however, asked herself if perhaps it had something to do with Voldemort's return. After all the dark wizard had found his ways into the walls of Hogwarts once already, who said he wouldn't be able to do it a second time?

* * *

"Let me introduce you to your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher... me. Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five times winner of 'The Most Charming Smile Award', but I don't talk about that; I didn't get rid of the Banden Banshee by smiling at him."

She was convinced that any student who had the smallest ounce of pride did not listen to his stupid blabbing – as it was however, she could notice the whole room hanging to his lips. Not one person was exempt… well, maybe for Severus Snape, who stood at the far end of the room, leaned against the wall with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

In a brief moment she thought back to the riddle she had solved about him and as if he had heard her thoughts, his eyes darted to her. They did not stare at each other this time, for Hermione, as soon as she had realized that he had caught her staring at him, looked away as quickly as possible.

"Now might I present my sparring partner, Professor Snape. Do not worry though, I will return him in one piece…"

Hermione lifted an eyebrow as she watched her potions professor stalk towards the nuisance that was Gilderoy Lockhart. By the way he held himself and walked soundlessly even, she was practically sure that while most students were ecstatic about Snape being blown into shambles, their dour professor could out-duel Lockhart in his sleep during an erotic dream.

And indeed, she found that Snape blocked Lockhart's spell before the latter had even cast it efficiently. She agreed with Snape, all too quickly – a voice in her head whispered – that they would have been better off learning how to block spells. Students were quite inventive when it came to casting aggressive spells, however most victims did not even know that they could block the attacks – Hermione could sing a song of that one.

"Let's have a volunteer pair. Potter, Weasley, how about you?"

Hermione, even though she was trying to hide it, was not sure if Ron should join the hassle. Really, first of all he was not very well versed with spells and on top of that the Whomping Willow had clearly snapped his wand in two. Unable to cast a wandless _Reparo_ Ron had glued it together with tape. In layman's terms: he was a walking menace.

Gladly though, Professor Snape spoke up. "Weasley's wand causes devastation with the simplest spells. We'll be sending Potter to the hospital wing in a matchbox."

Unfortunately it was not far away from the truth – however Hermione's feeling did not ease when the Head of Slytherin suggested that Draco would face of Harry. It was a barely acceptable duel, but it would turn out all the worse.

* * *

**So, actually I will upload another chapter as well today (or tonight, depending on where in this world you sit in front of the screen) and perhaps my Muse is merciful with me and gifts me with enough energy and imagination for a third even ;)**

**First of all, thank you Nansa and douglas. bailey. 7946 for the Story Alerts. **

**Now for the reviews: **

**Thank you toriashley (patience ;), but yes there is a difference between a male and a female 'professor' and thank you for pointing out my error, it was Harry to get the 60 for 'saving the world' and winning the House Cup), douglas. bailey. 7946 (patience, she's only in her first year), lostmariner4803 (I like Slyths, I'm sorry you don't like the part, it was part of it however and as you can see Hermione is not rectifying it, please don't be too upset), TequilaNervous (Yes, this will be canon), JollyLoser (thank you for the very, very delighting review) and bushyhaired-american-nerd (thank you for the lovely, encouraging review).**

**And yes, this story will be different, but I still feel it integral, that the original story is being followed. For me it makes all the difference if someone dishes out a completely different, but perhaps not so thought through and holey, alternative story or if they stick to the original story and twist it a little to _then_ make it a different story. I am very sorry if people don't agree with me on this, but perhaps we can all find the tolerance within us to agree to disagree and still enjoy the story for the aspects we like in it. **

**REVIEW PLEASE!**


	10. Basilisk

**I still hope you will enjoy it. **

* * *

"I told her not to attack him! Why can't anybody believe me?"

Snape was hidden under a disillusionment charm as he watched Granger and Potter walk at a leisurely pace at the borders of the lake. They had surprised him and on instinct, he had simply cast the charm. Now however, he was on to some interesting info.

"Harry, I am the first to believe you. However, we already talked about the Parsletongue thing. And seeing as the last writing decidedly talked about an heir of Slytherin, people think it's you."

The Potter prat threw his hands up in the air in a defeated manner and started to yell around. "I don't get this! One minute they love me, the other minute they hate me! Can't they just fucking stick with one thing! I mean…" he huffed and smirked, "I mean, take Snape, he always sticks with one thing. Even if he's not my favourite teacher, at least with him I know what I'm on about."

Granger smiled and snickered. "He's not that hard to see through really, if you're not Slytherin you could as well not hand in your homework – it's a failure anyways."

The resigned tone with which the boy spoke made Snape listen up. Granger was intelligent, very much so and would it not have been for his position, he'd have signed him O after O. As it was however, Granger was not only Gryffindor, but he was a muggle-born wizard as well. Considering the circles he frequented, it was a generally bad idea to encourage him. On top of that, he constantly went against Snape's instructions by helping Longbottom… who, however, got better by the lesson, and Snape knew that it was not because of his suddenly improving teaching methods. No, that was all Granger's doing.

Potter patted his friend's shoulder. "Never mind, Hermes. You still kick his ass." The boy sighed and gained on a wistful expression. "Ah, I wish I would have seen the expression on his face when he realized that it was actually _you_ who solved his riddle. Oh I would pay a fortune for it."

Snape's mind stopped – _Granger _had solved his puzzle? He froze involuntarily and stared at the boy as he bent down to tickle a small bush of Sea-Crown weed. The tiny leaves rang like small bells and he listened to the sound, watching the boy as he smiled, lost in his world where tickling the Sea-Crown weed was his enjoyment. Finally the void in his mind cleared and he concentrated on the boy. So Granger had solved it… well, he supposed he could deal with that. It had, after all, been a logical puzzle, rather than a potion related one. Most wizards were unaccustomed to use their brains instead of just some formula or potion… but Granger had grown up in the muggle-world, he'd be used to using his own head.

On top of that, he was an intelligent little knob. Within his first year already he'd created the _Avis Oppugno_ – a rather curious little jinx that was, and useful. Besides it had taken _him_ to remove that attacking flock of Canaries from the pursuit of his Slytherins. Mostly though, it was Draco… and he guessed that the reason he found himself so often pursued by Canaries was because he constantly tried to disrobe Granger.

Now though he watched the boy as he gently stroke the Sea-Crown back to complacency and continued to walk with Potter.

"Have you seen Ron by the way? I swear he hasn't been at dinner… he's not ill is he? I don't think I can take another bout of decontaminating the showers…" Granger ground and Potter dissolved in most unmanly giggles. Snape raised his eyebrow, but Granger continued exasperated. "No, Harry, I swear if he ever pukes into the showers again, no amount of illness will be an excuse. He'll clean it up by hand, as did we the last time. He's a friend, yes, but friendship only goes _that _far…"

* * *

It was Christmas.

Snape, was stalking the corridors – it was useless, technically, seeing as most students had returned home by now, but two thirds of the Chaotic Trio were still in the castle and he had a feeling that the petrifier would next target Granger. Really, if it were him, that boy would have been his target all along – that was, if it was a conscious attacker. But Granger was clever, he'd seen him rifle through the library books and if that meant anything: then it was that Granger had a clue and was now checking for theories to back him up. Short: he was close to getting to the truth.

"Let me pass."

He groaned inaudibly as he realized the voice to belong to Granger – apparently the boy just _had_ to constantly get into trouble whenever he was near.

"If you don't come willingly, I will have to employ other methods."

Strangely enough though the voice was hollow, as if the person that spoke were steered by someone else – as if they were being imperius-ed. Granger shuffled and then spoke again.

"Ron, I will be going nowhere with you as long as you do not tell me if that really is unicorn blood sticking to your arm!"

Snape choked on his breath. Unicorn blood? Surely not! Weasley was an idiot but not _that_ much of an idiot. Chancing a look around the corner, he found that the two were a few meters still away from him, not immediately behind the corner – he had an alcove that would shelter him, should he manage to get there undetected, after all Weasley stood with his face into his direction.

"I'm sorry, you don't make this easy on me."

The professor's eyes widened as he watched the red-head draw a wand that was not his own. Snape knew that wand, he knew the skull-handle; there was only one person who possessed such a wand. Just, how the hell had Weasley gotten his hand on it?

"Ron, don't make me do this…"

"_Incarcerous."_ Weasley's voice was still disembodied, but the spell was there. Snape was sure that he did not even have an idea of what he was doing – there was no way in hell that Weasley knew that spell.

Granger blocked the spell with amazing speed, before shooting one of his own and then flicking his hand into the direction of his friend. Snape stared… Was that just wandless magic? From a second year?

"_Stupefy."_

Granger blocked that spell as well. Before finally going for 'the kill' – he shot a few mild stinging hexes at his friend, busying him with blocking as he advanced at the same time. Then, just as he shot a slicing hex, he added a wandless _'Petrificus Totalus'_, finally able to still his friend.

Snape gave him a few moments to catch his breath, before he rounded the corner. "Fighting in the corridors, Mister Granger…" he drawled, "and against one of your house on top of that, what a disgrace you are."

The curly-haired boy trembled, unable to look him in the eye. Snape understood that – he could easily have the boy dispelled if he so wished, and Weasley as well. But he was surprised at the amount of skill that Granger had put into the small duel – he had not hurt his friend and had rather put him to still-stand.

"I think, for now, a week of detention with me and for Weasley with Filch, shall suffice, starting tomorrow night at eight o'clock."

Finally Granger turned to look at him, barely. There were tears threatening to fall down his cheeks, but he held them in bravely – Snape admired him for that, begrudgingly so, but he did. Up to now, he had managed to make each and every student cry, even Potter for that matter, but not so Granger. Never did he allow even one of his tears to fall, willing himself to keep it in at least until he was gone.

Snape was about to turn away, when he remembered the wand in Weasley's hands, turning he lifted the petrifying spell of the red-head and immediately snatched the wand away. "Fifty points from both of you, by the way, and you, Mister Weasley will immediately accompany me to my office."

He dragged the boy off at his ear, noting with some relief that at least now he had his natural eye-color back and was struggling like a real, live boy, not like the puppet he had been mere seconds ago.

* * *

Hermione was angry – very, very angry at Ron. Luna could understand her and had promised to look up the _Ron-incident_ with the aid of books. Hermione was sure that somewhere in the whole action, Ron had lost control of himself, had not been conscious of his actions anymore. But that did not mince the fact that she had gotten detention with Snape because of him.

Rationally Filch was worse, and yes, Hermione _was_ used to tedious tasks as cleaning and filing away – she'd done nothing but that at The Leaky Cauldron over the summer, and within half an hour of working, she found she even enjoyed the familiarity of her actions. However, a detention would mar her perfect grades and she certainly didn't want that.

Actually, she couldn't _need_ it – at all. If she was to prove those wizards wrong about muggle borns _and _women, then she had to be the best of her class, her year and generally the whole school, no way around that.

As she scrubbed the cauldrons, she thought about what Harry had told her about the voices he kept hearing. She assumed that they were Parsletongue, otherwise everyone would hear them too and Harry was far from being crazed – there were no signs to that. So now, it appeared that a giant snake was moving around Hogwarts, intent to kill.

And then there were the mysterious cases of the petrified students – Miss Norris and Colin Creevey had been joined by Edgar Flute and Nearly Headless Nick. She had not even known that ghosts could be petrified, for all she knew they _couldn't _be… unless.

The gasp that filled her and made her sit up also made her hit her head on the rim of the big cauldron, she rubbed her aching head, as she thought about the possibility. Of course then there was the question as to _how_ that thing moved around the school and showed up just wherever it pleased…

"Mister Granger if you are finished with the cauldrons, then move on to the pipes… as I told you."

"Pipes!" she gasped in revelation again and completely ignored the professor who looked at her with a raised eyebrow – oh she could kiss that man right now!

* * *

"Lysander! Lysander!"

Luna stopped mid-step when she heard Hermione's deepened voice call for her – the Gryffindor hastily ran down the stairs, well aware that, if she would get caught, she'd cost her house points, but she was too excited.

"Oh, I have had the most glorious epiphany of the millennium!" The Gryffindor yelled as he grabbed hold of her elbow and pulled her out into the small court, beaming brightly.

"Lysander, the thing that moves up and around, you know the thing that Harry claims to hear…. It's a Basilisk!"

Luna listened attentively as her friend rattled off the information she had found about Basilisks, no doubt in a dusty tome in the library.

"Think about it! It's a giant snake, so of course Harry would hear it, and it kills with only a look… but none of the victims actually looked _directly_ at the beast, so they kind of got lucky with _only_ a Petrifying. And it moves…" she caught her breath, "it moves through the old pipes of the school that are no longer used."

Luna was convinced – Hermione was always thorough with her researches and after all, it went well with the fleeing spiders she had observed near the victims: it appeared that spiders fled from a Basilisk, though she was not sure why.

"But how do you suppose the messages got on the wall?" she asked musing as they walked back to the Study Hall, "I mean, I don't think that a Basilisk would _write_, or am I wrong…"

Hermione nodded, already lost in thought again. Luna smiled at her and guided her to their intended spot. Whenever she thought, Hermione hardly kept track of where she was going, or even who would be talking to her – if she was lost in her thoughts, then she was, she was unreachable then… but mostly, she was also incredibly ingenious whenever she was lost in her thoughts. Luna smiled softly and opened her book on silent casting.

* * *

"_Petrificus Totalus!"_ Madame Pomfrey instantly toppled over, being caught in a full-body bind. Hermione watched as the doors to the Infirmary closed and she looked at the woman lying on the floor.

She recast her _Glamours_. Obviously Hermione had not thought that her magic would leave her once she'd be revived from her Petrification of the Basilisk, but it was good to know at least. Bending over the woman, she levitated her gently on a bed and looked sympathetically at her.

"Miss Pomfrey, I am incredibly sorry to have to do that." She bit her lip – she did indeed feel guilty for what she was about to do, but it was for the better anyways. "You need to know, Miss, that I adore learning here and that I will prove that women can be witches. I can unfortunately not allow you to leak this tinsel of information to anyone… Maybe your soul will be able to forgive me someday, Miss Pomfrey. _Obliviate._"

It was easier than she had suspected. After she had released the binds at the same time as she had cast the memory spell, Madame Pomfrey simply found herself lying on the bed with Hermes Granger next to her.

"Are you fine, Miss Pomfrey?"

The elderly woman nodded her acquiescence and then, finding that the Alraun's potion had worked on the earlier petrified Hermes Granger, let him go. Hermione was glad, although sad to see that women did not hold together even in this world, that she had evaded the near fiasco. Lysander was waiting for her outside the infirmary.

"I think I might have an idea as to how the messages got on the wall." Luna said silently, making sure that no one was around before moving to a more secluded area, where she produced a book. _Tom Riddle_ it read at the back. Hermione's eyebrows vanished in her hairline – Luna only nodded.

"Now guess where I found it."

* * *

**Second chapter today. I have the feeling it's a little short. And I have the feeling my muse will be generous ;) Let's see if I can get Hermione's second year to a close. **

**REVIEW PLEASE**


	11. The Pipes

**Wow! I love this writing marathon! Even though it makes me hungry like a bear...**

* * *

"You mean to say that _this_ has been in Ron's possession all along?" Harry was well near panicking and Hermione could understand – after all, Ronald was his best friend, the one person he confided strictly everything to, not even Hermes Granger could keep up with that… even though she was the easy way out when it came to homework and mediation.

Lysander nodded. "But I do not think that he knew, or that he was even aware who it belonged to. Voldemort's true name is technically nowhere to be found in the records… only in a few… less-read examples."

Even though Hermione knew that the book she talked about had been found in the _Restricted Section_ she agreed that Harry did not need to know about that, he'd only see it as an encouragement to go there and leaf through books that would be too dangerous for him, and undoubtedly he'd get detected, which would mean that the patrols there would be reinforced and that would allow neither Hermione nor Luna to go there in order to research.

And damn that would be dire.

"Harry do you have any idea how that could have possibly come into Ron's hands? Any… I don't know… run ins with notoriously Dark Wizards? Did he venture to Knockturn Alley for a dare? Was it maybe delivered with an owl?"

Through her onslaught of questions she hadn't noticed Harry growing sickly pale as of once. She noticed now. "Harry?"

"Run in…" he choked, "With Lucius Malfoy at Flourish and Blott's, he even grabbed Ron's books, made petty remarks and then left again… he could have, could have put it in there!"

Lucius Malfoy, Hermione gained on a pensive expression, apparently the apple didn't fall far from the tree, she had no doubt that Lucius Malfoy was Draco's father – oh what she wouldn't give to meet that brat. She cringed then… so that was why she had never seen that strange wand in Ron's hands before; it wasn't his – it was Voldemort's.

"Well… that might solve a problem and pose yet another one." She sighed as she leant back. "We can be positive that Ron is possessed by what is left of Voldemort, who in turn is trying to come back yet again." She groaned, rubbing the bridge of her nose; this was getting sticky.

* * *

"Oh, Albus, we need to let the parents know!" She heard McGonagall's worried voice – Hermione stopped dead in her tracks, pressing flush against the wall just before the corner, she dared not take a breath.

"I am afraid, Minerva, that you are right. Hogwarts is no longer safe…"

"What happened?!" gushed the overly-excited voice of Gilderoy Lockhart, Hermione rolled her eyes, leave it to Lockhart to not be present when he could have been of use.

"The worst." Snape's voice cut in, something fluttered in her chest as the dark timbre reached her, but she conveniently ignored it, she'd have to investigate that later – much later. "A student has been taken by the heir…"

Hermione stopped breathing for earnest – the worst indeed. She craned her neck, trying to hear more of the now whispering voices. "Who is it, Albus?"

That was Pomona Sprout, the Herbology teacher; her squeak relayed her uneasiness even though Hermione could not see her. The headmaster sighed dramatically.

"Ronald Weasley." She kept the gasp in as tears welled up her eyes, Ron may have attacked her and he was a right git at times, but he had been possessed, she doubted that he had gone truly voluntarily.

"Pity, I might have just known the spell to save him." Lockhart boasted – around him the air quietened, before McGonagall finally spoke up.

"Well then, Gilderoy, I believe we can trust you on that matter, can we not? After all it will not be your first adventure, will it? I am sure whatever waits down there for you will succumb to your extraordinary skills."

Now as her DADA-professor sputtered, she had to keep in a snicker – of course Lockhart was at a loss of words, but as he agreed, Hermione realized that perhaps it would be a good idea to at least give him what little information she had – if he was to be believed, after all, he had overcome a Banshee…

* * *

"Professor! We need to-!" Harry stopped three steps into the office. "Are you packing?"

Hermes and Lysander looked from behind him and found that, indeed, their professor had been carelessly throwing the most important things into a suitcase that he had just been in the process of closing.

"Ah… yes, important call from high up." He lied through his impeccable teeth.

"But, sir, what about Ron?" Harry tried desperately, the professor, stilling for a moment, then continued his hectic throwing of things.

"I am very sorry for your friend, Bob, but this is out of my hands…"

He wanted to flee. Hermione would have none of it – they needed an adult, even if it was a piss-pony like Lockhart was. Drawing her wand she watched as Luna did the same, Lockhart's back was turned to them, he was so above himself that he had dismissed them as threat.

"We will need you, professor." Was the last thing Harry said to him – Lockhart did not stand a chance, faced with three wands, he dropped his own, surrendering.

* * *

"So this is the entrance… Well done, well done, well…" Lockhart tried to flee one last time, but with an uncharacteristic show of strength Hermione single-handedly pushed him down the drain.

Harry looked after him and then at Hermes. "You seem to have picked up some strength, lad."

Hermione smirked. "Pushing boxes at the Leaky all summer should have paid out for _something_, now shouldn't it?"

"It's really quite filthy down here." Came Lockhart's disembodied voice and the three looked down the dark pipe again – Hermione sighed. "Why is it that we always have to jump down dark holes, I mean couldn't they just come up with something totally unexpected? A rainbow?"

Lysander and Harry both chuckled and with a last look the three of them jumped simultaneously.

* * *

_It is really quite filthy down here_, didn't even cover the sight of skeletons and bouts of rotting flesh that they landed in. Luna and Hermione were very close to squealing in disgust, but managed to do with a shocked gurgle instead. "Gods this is… are those skeletons?"

She scrambled up, away from the remnants of bodies of mice and owls and whatever could be found here, if the Basilisk was Voldemort's pet then she wouldn't put it past possibility that there were one or two humans as well.

What she hadn't counted on was Lockhart waiting for her.

"Fuck!" Before she knew what had happened to her, her wand was in Lockhart's hands she herself kept close to his body by his arm that was hefted over her throat, she struggled not.

"Wands down." Her professor growled – her friends complied. "Now, as you know I am not very resourceful as a wizard… however I have an exemplary gift with Memory Charms, wouldn't have done to have all those other wizards go out blabbing. So: say goodbye to your memories. _Obliviate!_"

The force of the Charm would have made them forget everything probably, would it not have been for Hermione's waving hands as she suddenly realized that she still was a witch. _"Protego!"_

Neither Luna nor Harry nor Hermione were hit by the Charm – Lockhart was so confused that the wizard in his arms had just cast wandless magic that he was rendered immobile and Luna used exactly that moment. _"Immobilus."_

In his exact posture Lockhart froze, making it finally possible for Hermione to escape his grip and get her wand back, glaring at her DADA-professor. "You, you turncoat, will be in for the surprise of your life once we get out of here."

It was decided that Luna would stay with the professor in case the Charm would lose its efficiency, Luna smiled. "I'd also rather that one of us would be unharmed in case you come back with wounds. I'll be back-up, call for me in case something should happen." Lysander looked especially at Hermes as he said that and the Gryffindor nodded back.

* * *

Hermione panted as she stood in front of the giant Snake, sure Fawkes had been kind enough to remove those disgusting, deadly eyes but that did nothing to actually keep the Basilisk from coming at her, it could still smell her, still hear her.

And even with her Sword, the one that had materialized in the Singing Hat earlier, Hermione was not sure how to kill that beast off exactly. Chancing a look over the Basilisk, she could see Harry locked in a deadly duel with Tom Riddle. Voldemort still appeared to be young, but then again, he was only a version of the diary… as of yet.

She looked back at the Basilisk – damn, what would Snape do in her position? _"I would surely be helpless as a witch, not needing my wand to perform magic." _His sarcastic voice snapped annoyed into her ear and she almost blushed when once again she realized that she was not defenceless, even though Harry had needed to take her wand for Tom Riddle had gotten hold of his, as it was though, it was not working properly for him and she needed to help him as soon as possible.

"Oh do come here you rotting slowworm."

Having officially enraged and provoked the animal might not have been her best idea, but it was her only chance to maybe be able to follow through with her plan. And if that didn't work well then maybe she'd be able to fend that beast off until Harry was finished with Tom…

"Ow, you bastard beast!" Lashing out in her anger of having been grazed by one of the fangs of the animal, she beheaded it with a squelching sound – around her the world spun, she felt nauseous… Merlin, she'd die here…

* * *

"_Hermes. Hermes look at me, come on lad, hang on there…" _

_Hermione had a difficult time to keep breathing, let alone keep her eyes open, but a mop of blonde hair above her reassured her that Luna was there, it couldn't be that bad then if Luna was right next to her. _

"_Hermes." _

_Black enveloped her and she saw her parent's house again. Aunt May sat in the garden with the rest of her family and they laughed, Hermione's heart was at ease as she watched through the garden fence. As if on cue, Hermes appeared in front of her and smiled at her. "I knew you were alive." Her brother smiled as he patted her head through the fence. "I know you're at that school, I hope you show them that a Granger means business, right?" _

_Their father was laughing loud at something that their mother said and bent over the table to kiss her affectionately, they looked on for a moment, before Hermes turned back to her and smiled sadly through the fence. _

"_I'm sorry, little sister, but your time has not come yet. You still have a lot to achieve… take care of you." _

_And just like that she was ripped out of the beautiful dream. _

Pain shot through her and she arched her back, hoping to give it some leeway, hoping to make it disappear, and she gasped in short breaths, panting harshly.

"Hermione?" Luna was next to her, she could hear her, and as she settled back on the mattress beneath her, it dipped, indicating that Luna had just sat down next to her – their hands intertwined. "Come on, Hermione, I need you here. I can't get you to the infirmary, you need to fight through this… fight the venom, please Hermione, I need you, here."

Her voice faded out once more as Hermione slipped back into the darkness.

"_Mister Granger…" The drawl unmistakably belonged to Professor Snape, but she could not see him. His figure had not appeared somewhere in the darkness, she was not sure if she was indeed hearing him or if she imagined him in her fever. _

"_Mister Granger…" The man sighed this time, sounding unlike she had ever heard him before. "Come back. Mister Lovegood will have lost his pretty head over you if you do not return soon. That and Hogwarts would be at an impasse as how to explain your demise. Not to say I'd certainly miss being snarky to you because you sprout off knowledge… Get back, Hermes."_

* * *

Dumbledore stood up at the Head Table, the Hall fell silent. "Students, another year has passed – a year frightful and horrible for some of us, but we can say with pride that those living in this castle will never let it down. I can announce with pride not only the finding of the Chamber of Secrets, but also the demise of the Basilisk having incapacitated so many of our students. First of all, I would like a hefty applause for Miss Sprout and Professor Snape for not resting even one eye until all students were healed."

The Hall erupted in clapping, and though most clapped for Miss Sprout, Hermione clapped for her potions professor – she was still not sure whether she had dreamt it or not, but his words had certainly made her come back for sure. Luna had been there, crying her eyes out and finally throwing herself around Hermione's neck. She had cleverly manoeuvred them into the Room of Requirement that had put a bed, a cauldron, ingredients and a potions book at her disposal. Luna had not once stopped brewing the anti venin and feeding it to Hermione.

When the applause ceased, Dumbledore smiled. "Concerning these matters, I would like to appoint fifty points to Lysander Lovegood for clear-mindedness and quick thinking, never leaving when needed and devoting himself to the last ounce of strength."

Hermione actually stood up when she clapped, solely for the purpose of course, but glad when some of the students followed her example – she guessed that most news travelled fast in Hogwarts and it was no secret that without Lysander Lovegood, Hermes Granger would have been a serious victim to the Basilisk.

"And because sometimes our feet and noses lead us where we shouldn't be, but where we are needed nevertheless, I appoint to Harry Potter and Hermes Granger respectively a hundred points, for courage, loyalty and unyielding strength."

This time around it was Lysander who stood up while clapping and save for the Slytherins (who celebrated their receiving of the House Cup thanks to Snape deducting as many points as possible from Gryffindor down to only 52 points remaining) everyone followed her example, though she was sure that most did it for Harry – she was simply thankful that nothing but a scar would remain from her encounter with that blasted snake.

* * *

"Promise you will write." Luna smiled as she hugged her close, Hermione reciprocated the hug in a friendly way and nodded.

"Of course I will, though Tom will make sure to keep me busy."

They were standing in the middle of King's Cross, mainly waiting for Luna's parents, who were meant to pick her up. Technically she should have spent her year at a catholic school, where she was supposed to be learning how to knit, and cook, and raise children and all other blunder.

"You know, you really look handsome, Hermes." She noticed quietly as she straightened Hermione's collar. "But I'm far too glad that I have found out who you really are."

They both smiled at each other, before Luna noticed her parents, accompanied by a smiling Tom, Hermes smirked and looked back at Luna. "Promise me you'll write me back."

And therewith they both set off to their respective summers. Tom smirked at her: "Lovely bird she is, lad, lovely bird."

* * *

**Tadaaa! I managed to write a whole year in a day! I am somewhat proud of myself. And yes I left the spiders out of the plot - not because I don't like them (I found the trip in the woods quite adventurous and interesting), but because the simply did not seem to fit in the story - I still hope you liked it though!**

**REVIEW PLEASE**


	12. Drei

**So, here I am again with a new chapter - which took me longer than I wished. But my internet connection decided to just off itself and see how I would deal with it (mental breakdown followed by inspiration XP) and so it took me longer to upload. Plus uni restarted so I had that to concentrate on as well. **

**Anyways, I'm breaking with the line of the original story and still hope that you will enjoy!**

* * *

She smiled at the woman through her G_lamour_. Hermes Granger was fourteen, small and lithe as he weaved through the crowd in the Leaky Cauldron, masterfully carrying a tray full of glasses and bottles back to the bar. Tom smiled at her from behind and Hermes nodded back, giving him a smile of his own.

Walking around in the Leaky and carrying heavy trays of full or empty glasses, cups and bottles had strengthened her muscles and she realized that she had grown a lot more during the summer, now almost looking over Tom, who was not all that tall anyways. For Hermione it was still a small accomplishment.

The pretty owl that she had named _Sif_ was around her mostly these days, enjoying her company and whenever Hermione would sit on a bench in Diagon Alley during her pauses, Sif would join to sit on her shoulder and read over her shoulder. Tom had lent her a few clothes that would allow her to mingle with the magical crowd and not be immediately detected as a muggle. She enjoyed the feel of trousers immensely, and liked how she looked in Tom's old clothes – apparently he liked it as well.

Ever since she had detected the _Used Section_ at Flourish and Blott's and the Second Hand Bookshop _Veritas_, she had been spending a little money on books that would fit into her backpack additionally to everything that she had already there. She was aware that she would need a hide-out for her belongings while she only had a backpack.

When her wand vibrated, she smiled, tapping it once with her hand and cancelling the time-charm – while it was one of Alecto's charms for the kitchen, it was perfect if she wanted to get back to the Leaky on time from her pause.

Closing her book on Dragons, she breathed easy, smiling at Sif who shook herself out of her sleep and blinked her big brown eyes sleepily at Hermione. "Wake up, sleepy head, my pause is over… I'll go back."

Sif clipped her beak as if in a yawn but didn't leave Hermione's shoulder as she stood up and made her way back to the Leaky. The owl purred, pushing her feathery soft head against Hermione's temple, who, in turn, gently scratched the owl beneath the beak where she liked it most. Overly content at the reaction of her well-trained human, Sif chirped satisfied.

"There you are, Hermes."

Tom smiled at her as she entered through the back door, gently prying Sif from her shoulder and setting her down on the lean of her stool, before she took off her coat and looked expectantly at Tom.

The innkeeper had picked her up from King's Cross last summer again, had given her the small mansard again and had allowed her to work. Hermione was content, she was happy that she had somewhere to go back to after a year of work and learning and the Leaky was just the place that she liked. People came every day, drank, ate, talked – she liked to listen to what people said, liked to look at them and their expressions; she liked being in such a lived-in place.

"Come on, we got an important guest later that day. The minister will be staying at the Leaky and we'll need to make sure that his suite is nothing but impeccable… and we'll house Harry Potter."

At her saucer-like eyes, Tom shrugged. "I don't know either, Hermes. Dumbledore says he _has_ a stay over the holidays but apparently there were... inconveniences." Hermione suppressed a snort: with Harry there were always _inconveniences_, even if he just stumbled into them most of the time.

It appeared that the Minister Suite needed a complete once-over and Hermione was only too happy to comply. She worked all day, sweating when the heat became too overbearing, but still too engaged in her rearranging and cleaning away. When she was done though, she had accomplished quite the feat.

"Just in time, lad." Tom's voice reached her when she was finished, the man smirked. "Minister just came in a few minutes ago." Behind him Hermione could see the Minister's trunks floating. Hermione went down to the pub again as Tom arranged the last few things for the minister and found Alecto, the kitchen assistant, already steaming from extortion. He'd been doing the pub, the kitchen and the cleaning up for quite some time.

"I'm taking over the cleaning-up, 'lecto." Hermione volunteered, and the sweating man smiled at her as she grabbed the nearest tray and went to collect glasses and orders. Mostly she was a full-fledged assistant during the summer, though Tom did not like to see it when she worked at the bar, which was understandable, she was, after all, only fourteen. Loading and unloading a few glasses, she started towards a table with a full tray of glasses.

"Hermes!"

Skillfully she pivoted on her heels as she heard her name called out. Harry rushed towards her and she had only that much time to stop him from eloping her in a hug that would have crashed the delicate glassware on her tray along with the rather pricy peach-liquor within.

"Harry!" she smiled as she stepped back carefully, "How nice to see you here."

The boy, never the quickest, looked at her for the first time and noticed the full tray in her hands. "Are you working here?"

Hermes nodded – she knew that she had to explain him everything at least twice… and she remembered that she'd told him just after having pushed Lockhart into the drain. "Over the summers, I _am _an orphan after all and Tom was nice enough to take me up…" she cringed at the reminder that she had work to do, "I really need to be going now, though, Harry, catch you later, yes?"

* * *

"So they think that Sirius Black has broken out of Azkaban to come and hunt you down, to finish you off, yes?" Ron asked over munching his chocolate-frog, Hermes pulled a grimace, making Lysander and Harry smile slightly – those two would never truly get along, but somehow they matched.

The black-haired boy nodded. "That's at least what the Minister thinks anyways. And seeing as I have no other information than that which was given to me, I should be inclined to believe the same…"

Hermes observed the unmoving posture of the professor opposite of her. R.J. Lupin's ears were continuously twitching, even though his breathing was still the same, deep, even in- and exhale it had been all the ride long; not to mention, his eyes were rolling quickly under his thin eyelids, but she could not be sure whether or not they were listened to.

"I'd say, Harry, that we take a closer look at it. The ministry, if I may remind you, also does not believe that Voldemort had attacked Hogwarts the last two years – they might have their own agenda, now suddenly taking notice of you…" she threw in cautiously, the boy nodded.

"That is why I am not all that convinced. I mean, they've never taken a real interest in me, and additionally I believe that there is more than one person that may want to take revenge on whoever it is and the Ministry also doesn't jump up then to make sure they're alright. I think-"

The screeching stop of the train interrupted Harry mid-sentence as he almost fell on top of Ron. Blushing the two boys quickly disengaged from one another, but Hermione and Luna had seen the looks and exchanged smirks.

"What is this?" Ron had forgone his umpteenth chocolate frog for the sake of inquiry, pushing his fingers against a quickly cooling window where frost-flowers bloomed. Hermione narrowed her brows – it didn't usually get all that cold at once, but indeed, it _was_ getting cold, too quickly for it to be natural.

Her breath caught as suddenly a dark silhouette appeared in front of their compartment… "Lysander." But the blond boy was in the same state of shock as she herself. She hardly saw the hand opening their compartment door, lost to the overwhelming, yes painful, feeling of despair and agony.

Blackness threatened to surround her, when, in a last attempt for security, she fell forward and right on top of her new professor.

"_Expecto Patronum." _Light.

She coughed when she finally managed to get rid of the cold feeling inside of her, looking at Lysander, who was blinking with wide eyes that screamed of panic.

"Lysander…" she whispered again, glad when she got a reaction of the blonde. The professor, now standing, looked around, assessing the students around him who were still choking and trying to get rid of the clammy feeling.

"Here." Each of them received a chocolate bar, Hermione looked at it and then her professor, slowly sitting back down on her seat. "It will drive the cold feeling away."

Hermione did not ask twice. "What was that professor, if you don't mind me asking?"

Lupin looked at her with a nervous smile, now handing Ron his share of chocolate as well, before he sat down again. "That was a Dementor, they are known for sucking out the happiness in people's lives… which is why you are probably all feeling… a little bereft at the moment."

Gladly though, a second incident of that caliber did not occur during their carriage-ride to Hogwarts.

* * *

"Mister Granger, as you are probably aware, most of your lessons… cross each other. You have taken as many subjects as possible it seems and on a straight timeline that will not be successful."

She stared disheartened at the headmaster, ready to swallow her thirst for knowledge and cancel a few lessons. Dumbledore looked at her over the rims of his glasses, giving her his usual twinkle.

"Though on a… less straight timeline it is possible… and we _are _wizards after all, aren't we?"

She watched with amazement as Dumbledore produced a time-turner, explaining her the finer workings of the small apparatus. She would be able to travel through time with it – backwards naturally, it wouldn't do to end up in the future and stalk out the information she needed for the tests… even though she wouldn't do that anyways.

As the golden chain hung around her neck, she swallowed nervously, Dumbledore looked at her in earnest.

"Mister Granger, I must implore you not to tell anyone of your possession of the time-turner. People have always wanted to travel back in time to _righten_ things, but everything that has happened in the past has a consequence in the future, Mister Granger. You cannot allow the wrong people to know about the time-turner, which is why I cannot let you tell anyone about this."

Ready to take a wand-oath, as she believed Dumbledore would make her, she nodded. The headmaster nodded back and smiled. "Well then, Mister Granger, hurry up, before you are late to your first class."

Hermione flew down the stairs – she had potions first after all and Snape never liked late-comers.

* * *

"So what's this all about?" Hermes appeared next to Ron, Lysander and Harry – Ron gaped open-mouthed.

"Where the hell do you come from?" Lysander, non-committing, handed her a cup of tea and motioned for her to drink it, Hermione did. The tea was bitter and disgusting, but as she had finished it, she handed it to Lysander, who exchanged it against her own cup.

All that Hermione could see were the buds of tea. "I'm supposed to read your future out of that…" she quirked an eyebrow at Lysander, who shrugged. Hermione sighed and opened the book, trying to see _whatever_ in that… rest of tea-leaves.

"Well, what does his tea-cup say?" Miss Trelawney chattered interested, too close to Hermes' ear. She could smell the unmistakable stench of whiskey wafting from the woman, and instinctively stilled – she had learned her lessons in the Leaky Cauldron: drunken people were most offended if you leaned away from their alcohol-smell.

Hermione just couldn't believe that a _teacher_ at Hogwarts would be daft enough to get so nattered that even a _student_ could tell! Looking at the ridiculous teacher who was trying to encourage her, she spoke up, very clearly: "You should stay away from the alcohol."

Of course Trelawney wouldn't realize that Hermione had _not_ spoken to Lysander, whom she knew not to drink, but instead went on to blabber about how her third eye was not open, blah blah blah. Instead, she reached for the cup that a bemused Lysander was holding in her hand to read of it.

"Ah… you're a sibling, a girl and a boy…" she frowned then, "But you, have a brother."

Silence reigned for a moment, before, ever so slowly, Hermes stood up, at eye-level with the older woman, mustering the best mask of rage that she could call up and calming her voice to a level where it sounded low and threatening, oh thank Merlin for having put her into the classes of the Master of sounding threatening – Snape's lessons were manifold.

"Are you telling me… that I am girl, _Miss_?" she hissed the title so vehemently that she could see small specks of spittle sprinkling the thick glasses of the Divination teacher. When the woman did not respond, she stepped back. "I thought so." And then, because there was nothing better to do and Trelawney was dangerously close to the truth, she left without another word.

* * *

Lysander found her later in the Room of Requirement, checking over her _Glamours_ – the two stared at each other utterly perplexed for a few moments, before Hermione swallowed, looking at her friend. "Was my show convincing?"

Luna nodded enthusiastically, before they dove for a reassuring hug, Hermione released a deep breath. "Merlin, I thought that coot had caught me, right up there. I was almost sure that she'd go screaming to the headmaster and demand that I be evicted from school. Damn that was… too close."

Luna pulled her closer, before moving away and smiling at her. "Well, you will be glad to hear that the two of us are only half of the female student population at Hogwarts then."

Hermione was actually ecstatic.

* * *

**What's this, what's this? There's something in the air. What's this, what's this? There's magic everywhere.**

**SO close to detection! Now you know why Hermione never returned to Divination ;)**

**I want to thank bushyhaired-american-nerd (thank you 3), arabellagrace (thank you as well),** **Anonymous**** (don't forget Hermione's a bookworm - so she went to the library to figure it out), the Guest (hmmm... valid question, I have yet to think of a fitting answer), smurfgirlz (unfortunately little of Dobby, but there will be a house-elf), Ceralyn (I think it was the last of her family, but I'm not so sure yet...), douglas. bailey. 7946 (we all are ;P), TequilaNervous (thank you), Pellaeonthewingedlion (thank you) and renaid (thank you for the compliment and I hope you stay with us) for the lovely, encouraging reviews =D. They made me billion tons of happy. **

**Also, thank you Pesche, astig01, Kawaii girl 4 life, Ceralyn, Princess Eclpise and Sea Goddess Michiru for the Story Alerts. And thanks to renaid for the Author Alert.**

**And thank you Smurfgirlz, Riddlergirl101, and Sea Goddess Michiru for the Favs (and thank you Smurfgirlz for the Author Fav).**

**I hope I left no one out. Are you curious to see who the other witches at Hogwarts are? **

**REVIEW PLEASE!**


	13. New Ones

**So, here is the next chapter =) Sooner than I anticipated it, but it's also a little short... which might be a reason to publish another one tonight... As always, I've taken lots of liberties with the story, though I don't own anything but the idea to twist the original story a little. **

**I hope you still like it, I hope you're still with me and I hope you'll still enjoy!**

* * *

The four girls sat in the Room of Requirement, taking each other in, something akin to insecurity hung in the air and spread along with the awkwardness, when no one spoke.

Parcival Parkinson figured to be a girl by the name of Pansy Parkinson – she had a guarded look about herself that half tempted Hermione to see how far she got with her Occlumency skills and prod her mind, but she held herself back, for truly if she were trained in that art, their reunion would be spoiled. Unlike Luna and herself, she had even _Glamoured _her hair short in order to absolutely blend in.

Cho Chang had kept it long as well, tying it in the usual wizard fashion at the nape of her neck. After having been ridiculed for it the first few days, she had explained that long hair in the Chinese culture meant reaching manhood – none of the boys had laughed about it then, manhood was important for a man after all.

"So… what would be your favourite classes?" Hermione finally spoke up, figuring that the safest ground they could at least cover was school. They were all at the same school after all, had the same teachers and were all about the same age, though she'd wager Cho was a little older than they were.

Surprisingly enough, once they talked, they really hit off.

* * *

Hermione knew that it was late when she returned to her dorm from the Room of Requirement – it was well past curfew. But she was aware that Snape did not prowl the hallways tonight, he was only on patrol on Friday and Thursday – somehow it made the thing less exhilarating, but also less dangerous.

Still, a huge stone fell from her heart, when she finally reached the safety of her common room. Some of the older Gryffindors smirked at her, the Weasley brother's being amongst them, and she smirked back albeit a bit shyly, before she started towards her dorm.

"Ron…"

It was barely a whisper when she stood in front of the door, but when she opened it carefully, she bore witness to the strangest of scenes. Harry was bent forward, his mouth connected to a blushing Ronald Weasley. Hermes did not know what to do.

Surely she and Luna had placed bets on when the two would finally find to each other, when they'd finally admit that something else but friendship drove towards each other. It had been from moment one, but at eleven, who would know that they tended towards their own sex rather than the other one?

Now though, she was at an impasse… she needed sleep, direly, and on the other hand she really didn't want to disturb the fresh union of Harry and Ron… what to do, what to do, what to do?

While she pondered, Fred and George passed her. "What's the matter _Shrimp_?" They smiled good-naturedly and stopped.

"I can't go in there right now." She answered in a hush, closing the door as she turned, still pondering. The Weasleys smirked and one of them opened the palm to the other one.

"I said it would be in their first three years, you said the last four. I win, brother." Resigned the brother who'd lost the bet put the money into the hand of the other one, before they returned to look at the still pondering third-year.

"Well… we see you could need a little help, and we have just the thing for you, Hermes." Conspirationally, they pulled a parchment from one of their sleeves and opened it. "I solemnly swear I'm up to no good."

_Messers Mooney, Prongs, Padfoot and Wormtail proudly present – The Marauder's Map_

Hermione stared with huge eyes as a blueprint of the school appeared on the parchment and suddenly moving foot-prints filled the voids where the hallways were - there had been no word in _Hogwarts: A History_ about a map like this. Curiously her eyes swept over the print.

_Professor Snape_ apparently was checking the _Astronomy Tower_

She stared. "What is this?"

Fred, or George she was never sure, smirked. "Well, it's the Marauder's map. We nicked it from Filch in first year – how did you think we had so little detentions? Only for the pranks that we conducted openly, but this map has been our best friend."

The other twin continued. "However, as it is, we are Gryffs, and we're loyal to those in our house. We suppose you can use it better than we can right now. It will be some time until that room is… well useable on a frequent basis, so we figured you find your way to one of the less frequented rooms."

"Oh, and if you're finished, you say _Mischief Managed_ and put your wand to the map, like this." He demonstrated the charm and the parchment became a parchment again – the Weasley twins looked utterly content with themselves.

"You know… there's a lot of rooms in this school that no one has ever discovered…"

"… and we figured that since you helped save Ronnie-poo…"

"… who is now making it impossible for you to go to sleep…"

"… we are in your debt, double, once for the saving,…"

"… and then because he's family. So…"

"Here you go." They cheered in unison, before taking off towards their own dorms. Hermione was still gobsmacked – she held a key to the school's darkest mysteries in her hands. Quickly hiding the map in her robes, she trudged towards the common room, now seeing it deserted. It was the optimal opportunity to see if the map worked… and how…

Hiding in a far corner where there was enough light but no one would be able to sneak up on her, she tapped the parchment.

"I solemnly swear I'm up to no good."

Again the formal greeting appeared on the map and Hermione made sure, for the last time that she wasn't being observed, before immersing herself into the secrets of Hogwarts at night.

The map, it appeared showed footprints of everyone awake, seeing as she could still see Harry and Ron doing… strange things in their room, she didn't even want to think too deeply why Harry's and Ron's name appeared on the same spot, the same two foot-prints, just simply alternating.

Watching more, she found that Severus Snape had retreated to the dungeons – she was amazed that the map included all levels off the school instead of just one level, it made the map all the more magical. As she watched, she realized that, indeed, the map showed rooms that were not always visible – for example, the Room of Requirement showed up on the map as well.

She was sleepy, but was aware that falling asleep in the common room, where her _Glamours _would slip away during her sleep, and she could be detected, she stole away towards the Room of Requirement – not once did she cross a teacher.

* * *

"Today, we will learn how to fight against your biggest fears." Professor Lupin spoke up, the wardrobe rattled angrily behind him, but he paid it no heed – the students did though, he smiled sickly, his nose twitching and his eyes constantly darting towards Hermes. "Do not fear, in _there_ you will find a boggart. Can anyone explain to me what a boggart is?"

Hermione's hand shot up in the air, and she waited patiently to be asked to answer. Unlike with Professor Snape, with whom she played another game altogether, she wished to be viewed as a patient, knowledgable student – Professor Lupin did take her in the end.

"A boggart is an amortal shape-shifting non-being that takes on the form of the viewer's worst fear. When facing a boggart, it is best to have someone else along, to try to confuse it, since facing more than one person at once would make it indisicive as to what form it must take, usually a mixed-up amalgam of the victims' fears. Because of their shape-shifting ability, no one knows what a boggart looks like when it is alone, as it instantly changes into your worst fears when you first see it." Lupin smiled, but she could see his nose twitching and his eyes showing his confusion, she fought her blush valiantly.

"Very good, Mister Granger, 10 points to Gryffindor."

As he went on to explain how a boggart was to be defeated, she released a hardly noticed breath. She hadn't known that a nose could be _that_ sensitive, for true, she had just started having her… time of month, but how would he be able to smell that. No one was able to, no one noticed it… Hastily she queued up to face the boggart, not all that intent to really _face_ the boggart.

Would it show the headmaster telling her she'd be thrown out? Would it show her Lupin as he detected her?

She was lucky though, for Harry's biggest fear appeared to be a Dementor and therefore class was cancelled and Harry taken aside. Hermione quickly exited the classroom and headed straight for the library. Magic could arrange noses, could make you someone else… surely it could also neutralize your scent.

* * *

**I took the explanation of a boggart from ** wiki/Boggart** ... just to make sure no one thinks I'm stealing things ;)**

**Thank you renaid (satisfied?), dia (yes, you are right... according to JKR she should have been about to celebrate her 12th), arabellagrace (Tadaa!), douglas. bailey. 7946 (Sorry, I will not spoil my own story, I'm sure you can understand ;P), TequilaNervous (surprise!), Pellaeonthewingedlion (Much to my shame, I didn't even _think_ of Ginny... I do not even know why...) and bushyhaired-american-nerd (disappointed?) for all your lovely reviews. **

**As I said, it's possible I publish another chapter tonight, so I hope you're not too disappointed with the fact that, at the moment, there is hardly any SeverusHermione - TRUST ME IT WILL COME! I haven't conceived this story to be anything else. But please bear in mind that she's only in her third year now... she's a little young, don't you think? Patience, only a few more chapters it will all make sense in the end. **

**PLEASE REVIEW! (I love reviews :D) **


	14. Clover

**So, another chapter :) Even though this one as well is somewhat 'short' I still hope that in combination with Chapter 13 you will have had your fill of BPW for today/tonight. **

**Thank you for reading and enjoy!**

* * *

"I have called this meeting, because I think there would be something that you'd need to know." Hermione began, as she paced up and down in the Room of Requirement. The three other girls followed her every move. "I don't know if you have noticed, but Professor Lupin has some… extraordinary sharp senses."

Pansy gasped. "Oh yes, the other day I whispered something to Zabini about Snape having his menstruation, I rounded the corner and Lupin was _down_ the hall and he docked points!"

Hermione nodded. "As I feared." She started pacing again. "It appears that his sense of smell is… more advanced than normally as well. I…" she stopped shortly, allowing herself to blush, "I am… well, I'm having my menstruation and I tell you that man _smells_ me."

She blushed even more now, but continued to ramble as the rest of the girls listened to her, gobsmacked. "I mean… it would be logical, you see, for any _animal_ to smell a bleeding female, but for a man... Well, never mind. Thing is, he's been staring at me the whole day with his nostrils flaring and his ears twitching and keeping me under an extra-close eye. So…"

Finally she took a breath again, stopping pacing and facing the girls in front of her. "So I went to the library and found a smell neutralizing spell. I find it… highly important that we learn that spell and cast it as soon as we are… in our time of month. If Lupin can smell it, then maybe there is somebody else who can, and we can't risk blowing our covers."

It was the first spell that they taught each other.

* * *

Harry and Ron were together quite frequently recently – and unfortunately nothing could quite stop them, which made Hermione a seeker of new rooms. With her new map, she was even quite efficient in it. But it wasn't until she met the house-elves, that she really found a room where she wished to stay longer than a night.

"How can I helps, Mister?" the house-elf asked her and Hermione, who had just wanted to discover the secret of the kitchen, was fascinated as she stared at the little creature, what with its green skin, tennis-ball-big eyes and Yoda-ears.

"A tea would be nice, please."

She was ushered into the room just outside of the kitchen, which appeared to be a small eating room, and waited for her tea to arrive, while she wrapped her mind about what happened here. Loyal book-worm that she was, she could say that she had already _read_ about house-elves, but she had never thought that they would actually serve at Hogwarts.

The elf that had brought her inside came back with a giant mug of Indian Chai, which was Hermione's favourite. As she received it, thanking the elf, she figured that somehow, she had really never wondered how something that you wished for during meal would suddenly, miraculously appear – she had never given it any thought just _how_ or _why _things appeared – she had just simply written it off as _magic_.

She blinked as she blew over the tea and noticed, as she took a sip, that it was just in the right temperature to drink for her.

Unknowingly Hermione had learnt an important lesson: _To always question the why and how, and not just simply accept that things happened – there was a reason for everything._

Finishing her tea in contemplative silence, she thanked the elf once again, for having allowed her in and bringing her tea, before she wanted to continue her search for a passable room. The elf surprised her again.

"Mister is searching for a room, he is." The elf stated with big eyes and Hermione guessed that her own eyes could probably rival his… or hers… or its.

"Yes." She finally breathed and with a smile, the elf's ears lifted and he started ushering her out of the kitchen.

"I has perfect room for Mister, not frequented, no never, but very nice, yes, yes." As she was lead by the house-elf, who had snatched her hand and now dragged her, she wondered if anybody would cross their ways and ask themselves what Hermes Granger was doing, letting himself be dragged about by a house-elf.

"Here we is." The elf finally said and nodded at a picture. "Yes, yes, this is right picture."

Now that the elf had stopped walking, she allowed herself to take a look around. It had led her into a fine corridor, of wood-clad walls and soft black carpet on the ground. She had never seen a part like this in the castle, and was amazed at its beauty. Turning she inspected the painting the elf had indicated for her.

At first she would have said that the painting was one of Botticelli's, what with the waving hair and wistful looks, but on a second look, she realized that Botticelli had never quite covered Joan of Orleans (and how should he have done so indeed?). For surely, a woman in the armour of a man, holding a sword would be Joan of Orleans.

"Big witch she was." The elf sighed and devotedly brushed a lint off the frame of the painting. "Saved men…"

Hermione squirmed under the gaze of the elf, perhaps it was only incident that it had led her here. But the creature smiled. "Missy shouldn't worry, Peetey cans keep secrets." And when he winked, Hermione knew that this elf was aware of what she was, but anyways it had not yet said anything.

"How do I get in?" she asked, and for the first time since she had arrived, Joan of Orleans moved her head as she had seen many other paintings do as well. The knight shook the stiffness off herself and smiled, before she checked the hallway.

"You, dearest, and only those let in on your secret shall get in, but the password will be yours to ponder on."

Hermione pouted and chewed on her lip, while Joan waited for an identifying word. It took the young witch some time, before she finally could decide on something that not everyone would be able to guess. _"Cosa Nostra."_

Joan, Hermione wondered briefly if the painting was aware what kind of word she had just chosen, smiled before she swung open and revealed to Hermione the room. Peetey followed the witch, smiling as he took in her overjoyed face.

"Is Mistress satisfied?" it asked in a high pitched voice and Hermione could only nod overwhelmed. It was everything she would have asked for.

There was room to work, room for potions, her own wardrobe, a bed, and most astounding of all, a small bathroom as well – in short, it was her sanctuary. When she returned from her little tour, the elf was still standing in the room.

"Shall Petey move Mistress' things to this room?"

For a short moment, Hermione pondered. Of course Harry and Ron would start questioning her, but in the end, this was the room that she had always searched for – a place where she could let her pretences fall and where she would be safe. Harry and Ron would, sooner rather than later, get over her moving-out, especially if they took their relationship yet a step further and would need… peace during the night.

"Yes, please, Peetey that would be very nice."

A snip of its fingers, and Hermione's clothes were in her wardrobe, the books were on the table, ingredients that she had collected and bought were on the working station, and her pyjamas on her bed. The elf nodded and then looked at Hermione.

It only registered then that Peetey had somehow made it his or her target to become Hermione's elf instead of _just_ serving the school.

"Thank you, Peetey, I won't need you tonight. As soon as I will, I will call on."

"Yes, Mistress." And as quickly as she had appeared in front of Hermione in the kitchen, she disappeared again. Hermione turned around in her room and then fell on her bed, oh sweet sanctuary, to finally sleep.

* * *

It was a good thing too she hadn't slept in any other room that night – though she would know that only the morrow after classes.

As usually, Hermes, Harry and Ron had been on their way back to their common room, but found that they were quite unable to even pass the stairs to the Fat Lady. And that's where the problem lay.

"Did you see that?"

"Who'd do something like that?"

Hermione herself was shocked when she realized just what had happened with the portrait of Gryffindor House. The canvas had been ripped apart, none too gently leaving nothing but scraps actually and the Fat Lady was gone.

"Excuse me, let me through please." The soft tone of the headmaster's voice hushed the excited babble of the students and they parted, letting Dumbledore walk through them as Moses had through the sea. "Oh, dearest… where is she?"

Finch, however she disliked the man, was the first to spot the Fat Lady. She was hidden in a picture just opposite of the entrance, trying to hide in a safari picture… though that was probably a good idea, the rhino was, after all, big enough to hide her almost completely.

"Darling, what happened?" the headmaster asked the shivering woman, who was pressing against the calm rhino.

"It was him." She whimpered. "I saw him. Sirius Black!"

Undoubtedly _those_ words created havoc.

* * *

**TADAAA! **

**There he is, Sirius Black. And Peetey, the house-elf (who'll stay from hence... unless my muse has other intentions for her... but I hope not, I like Peetey). **

**I hope you liked it. **

**PLEASE REVIEW!**


	15. Buckbeak

**So, here it is, another chapter. I hope you like it so far, I hope you like this, I hope you'll continue liking this ;)**

**ENJOY!**

* * *

"So, it is said that Sirius Black has found his way into the school." Cho said, while she chewed on a sandwich that Peetey had been kind enough to forward. It seemed that indeed the house-elf tended enormously towards Hermione and after reassuring her friends that Peetey knew of them and had not told them off, she was accepted in their circle – after all, a house-elf could always be useful.

Hermione nodded. "But since that incident with the Fat Lady I've been keeping my eyes on the map and have not once seen his name appear, so perhaps he's laying low now that he has all the attention drawn to him. Although…"

She unfolded it and spoke her vow, making the map appear – the four girls bent over the parchment and watched, before Hermione put her finger to a certain name. "That name… is quite unfamiliar with me." Pansy furrowed her brows.

"Peter Pettigrew?"

Hermione nodded. "Especially since he always sticks around Ron, and his dorm… and I've never seen him. It doesn't sit very well with me if I'm quite honest."

Pansy nodded. "I think I've heard the name once already… though I am at a loss as to the details."

"I've asked the twins about the name. They said that the map is faulty." Hermione said, closing the map again and making the blue-print vanish from the parchment. Luna furrowed her brows delicately.

"How do you mean 'faulty'?"

"I appeared as Hermione Granger on the map.", the witch said. Luna's eyes went wide, Hermione only shook her head in a reassuring way.

"As I said, they think the map is faulty and that Peter Pettigrew had been a student here once but that the map never quite figured out that he went. However… I know that my real name is on that map, not the name with which I am enrolled. So the question stays: who is Peter Pettigrew?"

The girls shrugged. Surely if the boy stuck around Ronald so much, sooner or later they'd meet him.

* * *

"Shut your mouths, take out your books and open them on page three-hundred-ninety-four."

Hermione could hardly watch as Snape hurled into the classroom, shut the blinds and suddenly stood in front of them. Didn't they have Defense Against the Dark Arts right now? Where was Lupin?

Dean Thomas raised his hand – and immediately Snape pinned him down. "Yes, Mister Thomas?"

"Where is Professor Lupin, sir?"

Wrong question, Hermione noticed almost immediately when a sneer spread on Snape's face and – maybe even without him noticing – he snarled. "He is sick today… and asked me to do his lessons. Now… page three-hundred-ninety-four. Mister Granger, read."

Hermione read, confused at first as to why Snape had jumped from one magical creature to the next, without ever finishing the first subject, when her brain finally caught on the creature they were discussing.

Werewolves.

It was a full moon tonight, wasn't it? And Professor Lupin was sick he said? What about his sensitive nose? His ears?

Diving head-first into the text, she never noticed how, just ever so slightly, Snape's mouth twitched upwards – the _Book-Shrimp _had caught on it appeared.

* * *

"Hermes?"

Hermione turned around to face Harry, who had been walking behind her, close to Ron – they had finished DADA and technically would have Divination, but since Hermione had not patronized the lesson after the Trelawney-incident, she could care less. The black-haired boy caught up with her. "Might I have a word with you in private?"

A word he might have, she didn't have anything to do anyways, save for practicing her Patronus – those Dementors were eating away at her and she rather liked knowing that she would be able to defeat them or at least keep them at bay should she unwittingly run into one of them.

The two of them shuffled into an alcove and Hermes waited patiently for Harry to speak. "Ahm… well, first of all, I've found out something really disturbing." Harry started. "Concerning Sirius Black… he… he was my godfather and apparently let Voldemort know just where they were, which gave him the opportunity to… yeah."

He had said it in a hushed voice and had almost tripped over his words, but Hermione had understood every bit of it.

"Harry, I am so sorry." She wanted to hug him and hold him, tell him that things would be alright… but as the young man that she was, she amicably put her hand on his shoulder. The boy blushed.

"Yeah… and… umm the other thing is that… well… uhm…"

"You and Ron are an item." She finished for him, smiling broadly when Harry's blush intensified to a point where he was red as a tomato. Hermes smiled good-naturedly. "I know Harry, that's the reason I… kind of found a new room. Don't worry – it's alright with me. You're still my best tormentors-turned-friends."

At that, finally, Harry cracked up and smiled.

* * *

Turning the wheel backwards, Hermione watched with rapt attention as the tiny hourglass spun faster and faster and around her, the light changed until the sun stood far in the sky again – it was only noon.

Right now, her other self sat in Ancient Runes, while she'd have to go to Transfiguration with Harry and Ron.

As she entered, Harry and Ron had diligently saved her some space next to them, she occupied it contentedly. Ron stared.

"Where the hell do you come from? I mean… I swear you weren't here before."

She smirked and shook her head. "Of course not Ron, I just entered through the doors."

Oh, the joy of it – he'd never know just where she really came from.

* * *

"Come closer, come closer I have someth'n' very special for ya'all today." Hagrid called them into the clearing – the students were still fighting with _The Monster Book of Monsters_ while Hermione, bibliophile that she was, had first of all explored the texture of the book and found out quite quickly that it stilled when you stroke its back.

"So, today, I have a very special guest for ya. Come closer, come closer. Yah, that's good. So… on this fine day, I'd like you to welcome… Buckbeak."

Buckbeak, was a Hippogriff.

Hermione couldn't stop staring. Of course Hagrid had to go and give such a creature such an idiotic name, _Fluffy_ had taught her relatively early that Hagrid never quite… went with the flow when naming a potentially dangerous creature, or he did, she wasn't quite sure.

"Hermes! Perfect!"

What? She was startled out of her reverie when she realized that Hagrid had not just asked a question, but apparently she had volunteered for some insane task. While others that had not been lost in la-la-land had stepped back, she had stayed where she was, which now made her a volunteer. Great.

"Come here."

She came closer to Hagrid, who looked a little worriedly at her. "How'm I doin'?" he asked in a hushed tone and she nodded her head reassuringly – it seemed to placate him. "Okay, now… Hippogriffs are proud things, don't look into his eyes, right? Good."

As Hagrid moved away, Hermes' path to Buckbeak was clear. "Now, Hermes, bow."

Doing as told, she bent perfectly, as she had learned in dancing lessons and realized with a start, that she missed those lessons direly. With one ear, she listened to Hagrid explaining the rest of the class that it was impervious that the Hippogriff would bow as well, or any going closer would be met with… well, possibly instant death.

Hence Hermione waited, but Buckbeak only watched.

Finally, Hagrid had almost pulled her back again, the Hippogriff bowed and Hagrid breathed relieved. "Very good, now Hermes go pat 'im."

Cautiously Hermione approached the animal, careful to never look it directly into the eye and stroke her hand over the soft feathers – Buckbeak clipped his beak and she was reminded of Sif, who hadn't come back to her in some time now.

"Wonderful, wonderful." Hagrid clapped, before all of a sudden, she was lifted in two bear-like clutches onto Buckbeak's back.

"Hagrid?" She was sure that she wanted down.

"Go, Buckbeak!"

Hardly having the time to hold on, she almost toppled over when the Hippogriff reared into an uneven gallop and spread its wings, taking off. It took some time to get used to the feeling of sitting on a Hippogriff instead of a broom, but eventually she realized that there were really only advantages to it.

While a broom was hardly more than a stick, a Hippogriff had real form to it, which made it easier to sit on top. However it was also easier to steer a broom, while a Hippogriff partly had an idea of its own where it wanted to go.

Of course, then, Malfoy just had to destroy it all.

* * *

**I always loved Buckbeak - and yes, it is important that Hermione sit on his back and not Harry, you'll se why later. **

**Anyways, I want to thank twibe, MissRichTeaa, white demoness (also for the Author Alert and the Favourite Author), Little Miss Banana, wintersalad, Lily of the Shadow and icarus enjoyed the view (also for the Favourite Story) for the Story Alerts, before I continue with the reviews. **

**I had so many reviews this time that all made me happy, so thank you LittlebigmouthOK (as explained, they thought the map faulty), bushyhaired-american-nerd (no SPEW here, I fear), Pellaeonthewingedlion (you think it's too early for them?), renaid (thank you! So many encouraging words!), douglas. bailey. 9746 (I knew you would ;p), arabellagrace (I'm glad to hear that), twibe (welcome aboard!), Smurfgirlz (I intend to 'keep' her as long as possible), DitzyPickle (thank you for the Author Alert, I hope you will like the story in the future as well), TequilaNervous (I needed a Slyth and sometimes I feel she gets too little recognition... and it just popped up in my mind), Little Miss Banana (I'm glad you like it I hope you'll continue to like it) and Guest (thank you) for the encouraging and manifold reviews.  
**

**And for the sake of me being happy:**

**PLEASE REVIEW :)**


	16. Sirius Black

**It _took_ me some time, but I'm finally - finally, finally, finally - updating for all my loyal and encouraging readers. Actually, today/tonight will be two chapters, since I wrote _a lot_ and first thought of loading up one HUGE chapter, and then decided against it, because really it's better to do so - or you would have to read loads and loads of this story all in one - and it looked nicer... plus we're making it to a new year, so I guess it's better divided than in one. **

**That said, the usual disclaimer applies and I hope you ENJOY!**

* * *

The Room of Requirement was full of animals.

"Oh, Luna, a rabbit – this is so cute!" Pansy was out of her mind with all the patronus animals that hopped and swirled around in the Room. The day that Hermione had finally managed to produce a passable patronus, she had went to ask the Clover – as Luna liked to describe their little group of fours – whether they would like to learn it as well.

Pansy wanted to learn it, because it meant one more spell… and she was seriously scared of the Dementors, as was the rest.

"It's actually quite easy in theory, you need to concentrate on something happy. The spell is _Expecto Patronum_. The really _hard_ thing about this is saying the spell when there is a Dementor near, because Dementors suck out all the happiness in you."

But they practiced it 'dry' the first few times around. Luna's rabbit was a quick little fellow, quite as quick as her mind was sometimes jumping from A to F, to B to M. Pansy's dragonfly got a smile of the usually closed-off girl, and Cho smiled openly at her humming-bird-patronus.

"Go on," Pansy encouraged her, "show us your patronus!"

Reluctant at first, because her patronus had only been abstract until then, Hermione finally cast it and was surprised when a stag jumped forth.

"Wow." Pansy chuckled. "Wow… Now I'd like to see your animagus form, darling!"

The annotation made ideas.

* * *

"Buckbeak's condemned." Hagrid hiccupped as he threw yet another of his huge stones. Hermione listened carefully, Harry and Ron neither said a word.

"It went quite well actually, I told'em Buckbeak was a good Hippogriff, always cleaned his feathers…" he sniffed and wiped a tear away, "but then they let Lucius Malfoy speak. Man said he was a threat to anyone n' that he was a killing machine!"

A huge sob escaped from Hagrid's lungs and he dejectedly threw the next stone heavy into the water, making it ripple. "Minister said I got five days to say good-bye."

* * *

_How do we intend to get Buckbeak away?_ Luna asked her, looking at her over the tables. Hermione chewed carefully, thinking of a few scenarios, before dismissing them.

Having read a book on Occlumency, she had decided to let Luna in on her secret of wishing to learn the rare art and the odd-worm had gladly agreed. In turn she herself had learned about Occlumency and the two were at least proficient enough to read each other's thoughts and push their thoughts into the other's mind.

_We'll need to get him away tonight anyways, can't have him come back to Hagrid, he'd be in trouble then..._

Lysander nodded almost unnoticeably from his table. "Have you noticed, Lupin is not at the Head table."

Hermione's head swiveled around when Ron spoke up – and indeed, Professor Lupin was missing. Quickly counting the days, Hermione's eyes widened, before she turned towards Lysander again.

_We're on full moon, Lu!_

* * *

Actually she had intended to stay awake until Harry and Ron were asleep in order to unfold the map and get out of the school and to Buckbeak before he'd be killed – that had been the original idea.

She had completely underestimated Harry and Ron of course… they never even came to the common room, and just before curfew broke, Hermione slipped out of school and started towards the Forbidden Forest, where she knew that Pansy would wait for them, she saw Cho vanishing behind the tree-line, when all of a sudden, a movement to her left made her hide behind a tree.

"Scabbers!"

Ronald ran after a dog that quite obviously hunted a rat, which Hermione knew to be Ron's haggard pet. Apparently he'd been in the family for twelve years… which was suspiciously long for a rat, but…

_Wait…_

"Hermes!" The hushed call came from behind her, and when she turned, she saw Luna climbing out of one of the windows at the lower level of the castle. "What are you doing here?"

She wanted to answer something… anything, when screams interrupted her, she turned towards the Whomping Willow again and noticed, with panic, that Ron was being pulled into the hole by the dog, while Harry tried to get to him, as the Willow awoke.

"Merlin, will they never stay out of trouble?" Luna whispered terrified when finally Harry made a mad dash towards the opening, but was lifted high into the air. Hermione decided quickly.

"Come on, Cho is with Pansy, and I'd rather not have Harry dead." Moving towards the Whomping Willow turned Raging Willow, both drew their wands, just as Harry neared them on a swinging branch, they cast the spell.

"_Immobilus."_

Plucking the weak-kneed Harry from the branch, they vanished into the underground passage, just in time as the Willow regained her consciousness. Panting the three of them huddled together in the tight passage, regaining their breath – Hermione glared at Harry.

"Why are you even out at this time? It's past curfew!"

Harry, however, smirked and patted her shoulder. "Hermes, honestly, I could say the same to you."

Well yes, he could – but Hermione had had an actual plan and was never caught, whereas Harry was never so lucky, frequently got caught and cost the House points that Hermione had to regain with her frenzied hand-waving. She shook her head and looked into the dark.

"I have a bad feeling about this, Harry, just so you know." But she led their little group anyways.

* * *

Ron looked scared, frightened out of his wits actually, when the three of them entered, but even his babbling did not help them. His leg was badly hurt from where the dog had sunk his teeth, Hermione tried to get him to stand.

"Ron, come on we need to get back it's full moon and…" she never got to finish the sentence, on the dusty floor, she could clearly see the paw traces of the dog, until all of a sudden they vanished behind the door.

"Wands." She ordered and Harry, as well as Luna, had them so quickly and strong in their hands; even as the door was pushed back into space and revealed Sirius Black, looking as mad as he had in the _Prophet_.

"You…" Hermione understood that Harry was at a loss of words; she wouldn't quite know what to say to people who had been their godfather and then tweeted their whereabouts to the Dark Lord in order to get them killed. "You monster!" her friend finally wrung out.

Black was raving mad. "It's not what you think Harry, please, let me explain."

"No!" Harry flexed his wand towards the man, "You will come back to Hogwarts with me and we'll hand you over to… to the Aurors or the Dementors…"

Harry never got to complete his sentence. _"Expelliarmus." _

"Lupin…" Hermione tensed, as did Luna next to her, gripping her wand just the slightest bit stronger. The professor was however unimpressed as he went to embrace Black. For Hermione a world fell together. Now she suspected Lupin to be a werewolf, but to see him embrace the man that had killed Harry's parents made her nerves stand on end – she should hex them right now, right on the spot. But for whatever reason, she didn't.

"I need to finish this, now, Remus, he's here… please, I cannot wait any longer. It's been twelve years for me, let's finish this now!"

Convinced that Black's insane babble concerned Harry, she pulled him behind herself and Luna as well as herself placed themselves in front of him – however, Black made a mad dash for Scabbers, Ron's rat that had been hiding in his arms. He leered at the rat that now dangled in his hands.

"Oh, I've waited so long, Pettigrew, so long."

"Scabbers! What are you doing to him!"

Black smirked. "Scabbers you say? Yes, yes that name fits for a traitor!" He held the rat under their noses. "This is Peter Pettigrew! This is the one who's betrayed your parents."

Hermione's brow furrowed and she put her wand at eye-level with Black. "You killed Pettigrew, blasted him until nothing was left, but a little finger." She accused, but the mad man, held one of the rat's paws up, a claw was missing, he then leered at Ron.

"How long's he been in your family, twelve years? Rather long life for an ordinary rat, don't you think?" With a swish of his hand, Harry's wand was in his hand and he deposited the rat on the broken piano in the dusty room. As soon as he had moved away Scabbers started to run like wild, while Lupin and Black shot non-verbal spells at him, all the while cursing his existence.

It was just when Scabbers was about to dive through a small hole that finally he was hit with a spell and transformed right on the spot.

He was ugly Hermione realized as she lowered her wand, apparently Black and Lupin were right after all. Peter Pettigrew looked like a rat even when he wasn't in his animagus form, his front teeth were long, his ears pointed, his hair was… ratty, for a lack of better description, and he was filthy.

"Remus! Sirius! What a pleasure to see you!" Attempting to throw himself into their arms, he was roughly shoved back to stand on his own – Black's wand quivered dangerously.

"You! You've told Lilly and James on Voldemort, admit it!" At the mention of the dark wizard's name, Pettigrew flinched, but then moved on, trying to explain how horrible the Dark Lord was – Hermione's ears perked up. No one called Voldemort 'Dark Lord' exception were of course the Death Eaters.

"So you told Voldemort!" Harry yelled enraged, of course Scabbers alias Pettigrew didn't quite know what to say against that. Black wanted to finish him off… right then and there, Harry had other ideas. "I want to hand him over to the Dementors, let them kiss him."

* * *

Hermione chewed on her lip as they walked back to the school. Here was Sirius Black, found innocent of the crimes one had him punished for and Peter Pettigrew, thought dead but guilty of the crimes that Sirius had been accused of.

And then of course Buckbeak… guilty she looked at Luna. _Do you think Pan and Cho released him nevertheless?_

Luna nodded in return. _Remember, we were already convinced that something would get in the way, we told them that anyways whoever got down, they'd have to save Buckbeak – I'm sure he's save. _

Reassured Hermione nodded her head, just before they exited the tunnel of the Whomping Willow. Snape awaited them.

_Damn, nothing can get past that man!_ She cursed, but figured that most likely he'd realized that Parcival Parkinson was missing and had started to search his snake. There _were_ tracking spells after all, though with a faux-name, she wasn't so sure if they worked. Then again, it was the intent that counted…

"Look at that." He drawled as he pushed his wand into Sirius' throat. "Black and Lupin." His gaze shot the DADA-teacher down, "I should have known that the two of you would be up to something."

"Severus please…" Lupin started towards him, but Snape kept him away with a second wand that he had whipped out of nowhere – Hermione stared, she had never known that one wizard could wield two wands. Suddenly Snape's eyes widened and he stared at Lupin.

"Why are you even outside?"

His voice sounded horribly thin and the cause hit Hermione like a ton of bricks. "Harry, come here." In an instant she had pulled Harry and Ron behind her and Luna, their wands leveled at Lupin.

"Oh Merlin, Remus…" Sirius whine was new to her ears, when all of a sudden Lupin started to transform. His legs grew longer, his body broader, his head bigger. Fuck.

Pettigrew, the ratty bastard, used the exact time to transform back into a rat and to run off. Lupin started towards the students, when Sirius finally caught him. "No, no, Remus, that's not you! Come on, this is what counts! This! Your heart is what counts! Don't let that beast take over!"

Snape had put himself protectively in front of the four of them and for a moment Hermione smelled his uniform – herbs, books and oak – before she snapped back to reality, seeing Lupin approach with a deadly growl. However, just as he was about to swipe at them, a black dog appeared out of nowhere, attacking the werewolf.

"Sirius."

It had to be him, she nodded at Harry, when understanding dawned on her. _Moony, Prongs, Padfoot and Wormtail_… Her brain went at a thousand miles per hour, Prongs, she figured would have had to be Harry's dad, a goat maybe, or a bull if he was larger.

By now Sirius had been thrown down the hill by _Moony_, who started towards the group of five again. A hex sat on Hermione's lips, but she dared not utter it yet, this _was_ a professor after all and it wouldn't do to be expelled from school for that.

The hex, she found a few seconds later, was unnecessary anyways… from the Forest called another werewolf, and ever one to follow the pack's call, Moony took off. Snape shook, and only now did she realize that she was actually pressing herself into his back, grabbing his robes in one of her hands. Quickly letting go, she waited for their punishment – Harry had taken off to find Sirius.

* * *

Pansy groaned when Hermione applied the salve. She felt utterly guilty about it, but the Slytherin only laughed it off. "It's only a scar, Granger, it will go by, and if it won't then it won't." They were lucky that Buckbeak had defended the person that had fed him so generously with the ferrets, if they wouldn't have had such luck, Pansy would probably have looked a lot worse… or would have to deal with Lycanthropy.

When the angry welts on her back had somewhat closed and were only rose instead of crimson, the girl stood up and looked at the rest of them. "Now what do we do with Black?"

Luna looked at Hermione before she started speaking. "From what I overheard, Sirius would like to take Harry in. I've talked a little to Harry and… everything would be better than the Dursleys, especially after what happened last summer."

The round chuckled, then a silence settled over them. In order for Harry to live with Sirius, latter had to survive the whole ordeal first… and no one had ever survived a Dementor's kiss.

"Look, Sirius Black is in the highest tower of Hogwarts." Cho said suddenly, "and not only do we have the means to get up there, but we have the means to get Sirius away from there as well."

Hermione sighed as she fiddled with the gold chain around her neck. "We have another problem, though…" she said silently, "Snape found Harry and Sirius at the shore after he'd deposited us at the entrance, both drained. He would have never been able to lock Sirius away – from what I overheard, he said a Patronus spell guided him there."

Silence hung in the air.

"You know that a patronus is only cast in case of Dementors… and if we don't make sure that Snape finds his way there, then neither Harry nor Sirius will survive." Luna said, catching on as the first.

Cho shook her head. "What are you talking about Hermione? They did survive, do you not see?"

Luna however smiled. "Harry talked about his father casting a Patronus." She said silently, Pansy and Cho looked at her as she gained a smirk on her face. "He was so convinced of it, because apparently a _stag_ preceded the patronus that called Snape to them."

Hermione sighed. She had not really intended to tell Cho or Pansy, but now that Luna had said it, she had realized that it had been necessary. "I'm talking about a not-so-straight timeline, ladies." She pulled out the time-turner.

* * *

Having _lent_ Harry's invisibility cloak, Luna and Hermione watched in horror as the evening played out again.

"Were you sniffing Snape?" Luna asked silently, and Hermione blushed, but did not answer – her friend did not need an answer anyways, she continued unerred. "You're practically using him as a shield and… is that his hand on your hip?"

Hermione had not noticed during her panic, but indeed, Snape's hand was clutching her hip as if she were a lifeline. "Ah," she said, "that would explain the black spots we found earlier." Because indeed, Snape had held her so strong that her right hip was decorated with a few black spots.

Luna shook her head. "Watch out, we're going to have to follow Harry."

They hurried after the boy with a bit of distance and convincingly positioned themselves on the other side of the small lake, in order to have Harry remembering the same as before – Dumbledore would know that she had gone back to the past to right what had been wrong and then she would be deep down in the shit.

"Hermione…"

Cold wrapped around them as one by one the Dementors descended from the air, starting to suck at Harry and Sirius separately, it was a horrible sight. Only when Harry threatened to keel over, Hermione stepped out of the trees that had sheltered her. She fought with a happy thought at first, before - unbidden - her feverish dream came back to her, Snape's voice telling her to come back, that he would miss her...

"_Expecto Patronum!"_

Snape had been right… she had never cast a Patronus quite as powerful as this one. Waiting for their teacher to arrive, they hid under the Cloak again, following him to the Medical Ward, where they conveniently stole Harry away after he had woken up.

* * *

Luna held Hermione in a death grip, as they sat on Buckbeak, and Hermione patted her hands softly – she really wasn't all that much into flying, but Hermione could understand. It did take some time to get used to it and Hermione decided that she'd find a way to get Luna to at least be passable at flying. Cho and Pansy had opted for the foot-way, sneaking Harry up the tower.

Touching down was a rocky thing, but Hermione smiled broadly at Sirius, who looked up from his cell upon hearing them arrive. Harry almost immediately tried to get towards his godfather, but Cho, gently held him back, Harry looked at him perplexed.

"Let Hermes work that lock before, will you?"

"_Bombarda."_

Sirius was free then. It was heart-wrenching to watch as the two men fell into each other's arms, hearing Sirius promising to write and Harry ushering him to flee. He did flee in the end, and Harry watched proudly as the two took off into the sky, before he turned to look at the four boys.

"You're the most ingenious, glorious house-mates I've ever encountered." He smirked – the Clover smirked back.

* * *

**REVIEW PLEASE!**


	17. Quatre

**Second chapter for today. I continue to take liberties with this story, please bear in mind ;)**

**ENJOY!**

* * *

"Had a hard day McLaggen?" Hermes smiled good-naturedly at the regular customer, who had just taken his seat at the bar, as he always did. Fortunately for her, he was not aware that she was a student at the same school as his son.

"It's full moon, Hermes, wizards tend to… react to that and then they all go crazy and everything is mayhem." he groaned; the young assistant smiled.

"So, the same as always and a glass Firewhiskey, yeah?" The man nodded and Hermes went to deposit the order, before she returned to the bar and quickly poured a healthy amount of whiskey into a tumbler. It was a little bit more than two fingers, but where McLaggen was concerned that was just alright. He'd been a customer, since Tom had opened the Leaky and if she had overheard correctly, then the two of them had even frequented Hogwarts together.

This summer Tom had finally allowed her to start working at the bar, which was a serious step-up for her. Not only because it was more work, but because it meant that she was starting to be viewed as a young man that could be trusted… and it raised her pay, which was never a bad thing.

It was funny to her that the beverages were served the muggle way, while the dishes could be levitated through the air, but Tom had explained to her that many spirits reacted badly to magic and would either expire too soon or would be ruined the very instant they were touched by magic. Now as she bustled through the Leaky again, collecting empty cups and taking up orders again, she was all of a sudden thrown back from a table near the fireplace.

Around her black-clothed men appeared in billowing robes and skull-masks that hid the upper part of their faces. She wandlessly disillusioned herself and scurried back under the next best table. Alone under the table she watched with growing fear as a few of them cast Unforgivable curses before all of a sudden another black-robed, skull-masked wizard appeared – the fire ceased immediately as he turned and watched.

"I ordered not to create havoc, you lot." He sneered and Hermione watched with rapt attention the familiarity with which his mouth curled. A man dared to dive for his wand, but before he could reach it, the speaker had hexed him immobile, Hermione's gasped.

She regretted the slight sound in the very minute she'd made it.

The nearest robed man, pivoted around and cast a spell she was sure would hit her with ferocity and kill her, dismantle her secret, put Tom into trouble and then have her buried without grace. But the violet hex bounced off a shield right in front of her.

"Not more than you already caused." And as quickly as they'd come, they were gone – Hermione still shaking beneath the table, her vision still dancing with spots from the light of the curse sent at her.

Snape had saved her. But he had killed McLaggen.

* * *

"Robed men with skull masks, you say?" Harry asked concerned as she recounted her story to the clover, the four friends looked up and at the gay pair that had neared them. Hermione nodded and Ron looked uneasy.

"They're Death Eaters." The black-haired boy said. "They raided the Quidditch World Championship… apparently before they made a small stop at the Leaky Cauldron."

Hermione's brows furrowed. Death Eaters were Voldemort's followers – formerly known as Knights of Walpurgis, Snape had been with them, she was sure of that. A voice like his didn't exist a second time… and he'd saved her, but why? He was her teacher, he _knew_ that she was a muggle-born – and it was Voldemort's wish to have a world without muggle-born wizards… let alone witches, even though _that_ part of her secret was safe, as of now. Then again, it was possible he hadn't even known it was _her _beneath the Disillusionment-Charm and he'd simply meant to spare an unknown life.

Guiltily she searched Cormac McLaggen in the crowd of students and found that he was already staring at her. Tom and herself had been lucky survivors of the raid, but had both been destroyed when Alecto and Claudius McLaggen had been declared dead – they'd drunk a Firewhiskey to both of them.

Now as she studied Cormac she found that he was wearing Claudius' family ring and she nodded at him, he returned the gesture.

"I need to research this…" she finally said, and found that her friends were smiling at her, especially the Clover. "They have never appeared before this summer… it probably means that Voldemort will try to strike again. Especially since this year we host the tri-wizard tournament."

The Tri-Wizard Tournament had been the talk of the whole British Wizarding Society, for finally it had returned to the Isles. Students from Beauxbatons, Durmstrang and Hogwarts would compete for the Cup, there were several competitions apparently, though Hermione had no real insight on what exactly the competitions would be – according to the books she'd read, they changed every time.

* * *

Fred and George roared with laughter and cheers as they entered the small room; the clover looked from next to the Cup. Hermes smirked: "Why do even try something so stupid? Dumbledore drew the age line himself, surely he won't have forgotten the possibilities of an aging potion, it's so simple."

_And if Dumbledore had forgotten, then probably Snape made sure that the aging potion will not be a possibility to cheat._ Pansy supplied mentally and the four boys smirked, the twins smirked back.

"That's exactly why it will work, Hermes. It's so simple." The clinked their flasks and then hooked their arms together. "Bottoms up!"

The Clover watched with rapt attention when the twins jumped into the circle and were expelled just as quickly again, now sporting white hair and large beards – they roared with laughter as the two of them were hauled up by the ears by none other but Snape and dragged to detention. Their laughter died, however, when Viktor Krum entered the room to put his name into the Cup – she wasn't sure why but somehow their eyes met for a longer than normal period.

* * *

"Florent DeLacour." The headmaster read loudly and a pretty, French boy stood up, practically prancing down the dais. It was strange, Hermione mused as she clapped, that these boys, even though they were so female, were considered a functioning part of the wizarding chain.

"Viktor Krum." The Bulgarian seeker from Durmstrang stood up and marched to the front, his eyes again resting on her, this was getting strange. The hall applauded, especially his school, but when the headmaster received the last piece of parchment, they went silent all together – this would be Hogwarts' champion.

"Cedric Diggory." Hogwarts howled with joy as the Huffelpuff strode forward to shake the headmaster's hand – Hermione was about to listen to what Dumbledore wanted to say further, when the Cup suddenly shrieked and cackled in an ugly way.

The blue flames turned hellishly red and the students along with their teachers stepped back, save for Dumbledore, who was rooted to the spot – red fog spread from the cup.

"_I was called."_ Came a grave voice from the Cup, it was scratchy and too deep for anything human – and indeed as the mist lifted, it revealed something that was everything but human. Mortified she watched as the bulking form of what she assumed to be a demon hunched over the cup, its grotesque face reminded her of a fox as it stared at the headmaster with its huge, red eyes. The thing split it face almost into half, when it _smiled_ at Dumbledore.

"_I was called."_ It repeated as a humanoid hand reached forth to hand the headmaster a last parchment. _"To hand this over. For surely you know, Albus, that a name that comes from the cup has to enter the tournament… there are contracts that are binding."_

And then it cackled and vanished in flames.

Silence reigned the room and Hermione watched the headmaster slowly bow down and pick the paper up. The students were still shocked from what had appeared to be a demon in the Cup – Hermione made a mental not to look it up in the library.

"Harry Potter." The old man read and if she wasn't tricked, his voice was a little bit shaking.

* * *

In the safety of her room behind Joan, the Clover shed their _Glamours_ and fell down on Hermione's bed. They had just been to the library and only barely had escaped Snape, who had been looking for something on his own apparently.

"So it has been a demon." Pansy finally said, still breathing hard – Hermione nodded. Despite her decision to _not_ look it up in the library, curiosity and the Clover had gotten the better of her and before she'd really known it, they had traipsed into the Restricted Section; only to flee it when their wards had jingled in their ears, announcing a teacher. Snape had been silent as a shadow though and they had almost run into him whilst their flight.

"But if the book on it is already in the Restricted Section and even _there_ it is considered as one of the darkest arts of magic, then _who_ in their right minds would summon it?"

As if on cue Hermione thought of Snape, who'd been in the Leaky Cauldron just this summer, who'd saved her but who'd killed Cladius McLaggen – could _he_ have summoned the beast? But to what use? Abruptly she sat up.

"It's one of the Death Eaters. Voldemort is gaining in strength – and he _will_ use the Tri-wizard tournament to get to Harry, that's why they summoned the demon, a soul is easy to sell if you have a captive that would be killed either way. It is possible that Harry dies in one of the competitions… and if he doesn't then he will simply attack, now that apparently a Death Eater is already at Hogwarts." She collected herself before she turned around and faced the inquisitive stares of her female companions. "I have something to tell you about this summer's attack that I haven't been able to share in the Great Hall."

* * *

"So let me get this straight, Hermes," Ron intercepted her steady flow of words, somewhat interrupting his chess game with Harry, she smiled as they finally turned their full attention at her. "You mean to say that You-Know-Who found a way, via Death Eater, to enter Harry into the competition to have him get killed?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, Ronald, that's exactly what I was saying. And if you'd put your strategic mind to _that_ task for once, you'd find that actually it's not so stupid as you make it sound!" she said exasperated, but waited for the red-head to come around.

Harry listened attentively. Ron shook his head: "And who would that be? I mean Dumbledore knows our professors, it would be too obvious if one of them slinked away to go on raids, Hermes. And surely you don't suggest its one of our guests."

Hermes sighed. If Dumbledore knew that Snape was a Death Eater? If it was really Snape who had summoned the demon? "We have our theories, Ron. But you can't deny that it is a possibility." Again the red-head shook his head and this time around Hermione couldn't help the annoyed look that marred her face, he simply thought he knew _everything_ better.

"There are prophecies, Hermes, on You-Know-Who and on Harry and probably even on you with your meddling mind and nose in a book." Affronted, she stifled an insult, and continued to listen – she'd read of prophecies, mind you, but she's never read a prophecy on Voldemort himself. "It says that You-Know-Who cannot be killed by a man and hence it would be illogical for him to fear Harry, wouldn't it?"

Hermione snorted. "You cannot be serious, Weasley." She ground. "Might I remind you that every year we've been here, Voldemort has made an attempt on Harry's life? That kind of puts a huge hamper on your theory. Add to that the fact that Harry has managed once to disembody him for soon thirteen years and you might really want to overthink what you've just said." As she stood up, about to go, she turned around once again, poking the dumbfounded red-head viciously into the chest. "And if it is so impossible to defeat him, Weasley, why are you still sitting here and doing nothing – shouldn't you be fearing for your life or something?"

* * *

Snape watched Granger in his class as he meticulously brewed his Healing Potion – nowadays a frown marred his features almost constantly. Sure he could hardly remember a time when the _Book-Shrimp_ had been one to laugh at all times, but before last year, he was sure that at least the frown hadn't been there.

His eyes glided over the exposed lower arms of the young man – he was a strong young fellow it appeared, physically in some cases more advanced than… say his godson Draco. Granger's muscles showed already, fine and delicate, but show they did. He suspected that he'd turn out to be a sinewy lad instead of a bulk…

Frowning he tore his thoughts away from his subject of thought; since when was he interested in what a student would look like later in his life? Where the _hell_ did that come from? Taking a cleansing breath and emptying his mind of those thoughts, he turned to concentrate on Longbottom, who'd been Granger's neighbour since the day in first class where the _Shrimp_ had been bullied to sit beside this catastrophe of a student.

Granger hardly even looked at Longbottom anymore nowadays, it was as if he had a magical Moody-eye only for Longbottom's cauldron – and stopped him just in the right times, without looking at him only once. Another thought struck him though, when Granger went to chop his Daisy root and did not look at Longbottom, for his back was turned to him, and Boy Chaos was about to add the Adder eyes too early.

Surprisingly the lid of his cauldron slid onto the pot and would not budge when Longbottom tried to open it. Finally they boy looked at Granger with huge eyes, before looking at the text, and realizing that something else needed to go in right now. Severus' eyes narrowed at the O-student.

Granger had not even _looked_ at Longbottom, he should not even know what that dunderhead had wanted to put in, and then of course he had neither spoken a word nor had he waved a wand – the lid had simply slid over the cauldron. The potion's master smirked; apparently Granger was ahead of his time just again. Damn it... he hadn't wanted to think of the boy anymore...

* * *

**So, there it IS! ****And since I've forgone my usual round of thanks in favour of quickly posting this chapter, I'll rectify that now. **

**Thank you quattrecskids (for the encouragement - it pushes me), LittlebigmouthOK (Yule ball is soon, promise), renaid (thank you so much, I'm trying to put some thought behind this and love it when people see it), douglas. bailey. 7946 (impatient as always, aren't we^^ but we are not that far from what you wish), legolas (obviously I'm twisting the original story somewhat ;P otherwise it wouldn't be a fanfiction, now wouldn't it), arabellagrace (well, what were you expecting, it's Malfoy after all), TequilaNervous (she is in some way star of the story, but in another way, she also isn't... we'll see, won't we?), bushyhaired-american-nerd (unfortunately I fear this will be most of Remus and Sirius... but seeing as my head is cramped with story ideas anyways, perhaps I can give them more credit in another story...), Guest (Yes, sir/madam! ^^), MissRichTea (I don't mind at all, it is a great honour to have someone read and review your story with so much gusto!), Smurfgirlz (thank you so much for the enthusiasm), SamMacKennaJustineTaylorFlac k (thank you so much) and Starflower1984 (I am very glad you like it) for the reviews. **

**Furthermore, thanks to ruby2360, RomanticDudette, EmilyWoods, MissPrincess1989, Mia Lenor, AideensEnvy, StrangersLikeMe25, desire88 and Starflower1984 for the encouraging Story Alerts!  
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**And lastly, for the Story Favs, my gratitude to austen16, RomanticDudette, A. Laufeysen, sherry905, ArcanePikachu, Readergirl56, SamMacKennaJustineTaylorFlac k (question: can I abbreviate you to SMKJTF?) and desire88. **

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	18. The Dragon

**I promised, not so long ago, to be more regular and quicker with updating - so after the last two chapters, let's continue with the fourth year. **

**Careful, small injection of smut in this one. ENJOY!**

* * *

"Dragons?" Hermes asked Harry again, just as he bent backwards to grab his bag, the black-haired boy nodded.

"Hagrid went to see them and allowed me to spy at them from under the Cloak…" The boy looked positively despaired. "I have no idea about dragons, I have no idea about fighting them either."

Hermes smiled as she pulled Harry aside into an alcove, the boy blushed and Hermes turned to smirk at him. "Don't worry, Harry, your virtue is save with me – it's Weasley you have to worry about. But hush now."

Silently Hermione called Peetey and asked the elf to hand her the book on dragons, Peetey was back with the book in an instant and smiled when Hermione sent her back to the kitchens, reminding her that later that day she'd probably meet with her friends in _the_ room again and they probably would like something to eat, if she'd be so nice to think of it.

Harry stared at her open-mouthed when Peetey winked out again. "You have an elf?" he asked her. Hermione shook her head.

"Don't be silly, Harry, the elves work for Hogwarts. I have only the luck of Peetey being partial to me, which is why I have a little more leeway. Anyways, come on, we need to find out what dragons you've seen, then we can concentrate on how Boy Wonder defeats them." Winking Hermes exited the alcove with Harry just right behind her.

* * *

"Are you sure?" Hermes asked him again, Harry sighed aggravated – he knew he shouldn't feel annoyed at his friend, he was after all being the first to be really productive about all of this. The rest of the school either just ignored him in disdain or broke out into howling encouragement the moment he was in sight. But he had asked him for the third time now.

"I'm sorry, Harry," he said quickly, surprising the black-haired boy with the accuracy of how he read people at times, "it's just that… my wand has a dragon string core and it coincides with the dragon you described."

"So?" Harry cocked his head, he was not quite as sure, why someone as well versed with spells as Hermes would see that as a reason to ask a pretty obvious question three times in a row. Hermes turned the book around so that Harry was able to read it properly.

"Harry, Icelandic Firecrows are… possessive, which is why they have no doubt chosen this type of dragon for whatever inane task you must fulfill. Thing is, they _sense_ each other and the presence of another Firecrow in a too close radius ensues in…"

"…Territorial Pissings." Harry finished for her, finally understanding his friend's dilemma – he leaned back. "So you think that the Firecrow will sense your wand, mistake you for a dragon and want to fight against you over the territory?"

Hermes nodded, slightly blushing as he lowered his head ever so slightly. For a short moment Harry had to admit, even though Ron had staked his claim, that Hermes looked pretty, very much so actually. He had fine traits, was a strong lad and lithe – he shook his head. "But there is a way to defeat this dragon as well, yes?" he asked instead.

After all, how big were the chances that he actually got the Icelandic Firecrow and would have Hermes fight his battle? And how big were the chances that the dragon really reacted as Hermes predicted it would – even though, a small part of his mind conceded, his predictions had always been correct until now, to the very point, each and every single time.

The bushy-haired boy opposite of him lit up. "'Course there are – that's why you are here after all. Let's work a few things out."

* * *

Hermione could not believe it – not one bit. Harry _had_ pulled the Icelandic Firecrow – it was a massive animal, much like she had always imagined an _Alp_ to look like, actually, with a long, convex skull that smoothly disappeared into a beak.

Three pairs of eyes allowed the dragon to see further than normal dragons would and made it all the more deadly, for its sight could not as easily be dissuaded as another dragon's. The giant wings could probably cover the whole stadium once stretched out – it _was_ a gigantic exemplary after all, and Hermione wondered shortly just _why_ they had chosen such an animal.

Then again, her prediction had been correct: the natural possessiveness of the dragon should have made it excruciatingly hard for Harry to get to the egg that meant safety – would it not have been for her in the stadium.

The short, but strong body of the Firecrow was smooth and then ended in a deadly, spiked tail – she supposed that if that beak was opened, she'd probably be met with rows of deadly sharp teeth… not to forget that dragons could actually breathe fire.

Harry had hardly entered the stadium – the dragon having shaken off the dizziness that was caused by the transport to the location, when she felt the eyes of the Firecrow on her. She knew that very moment that it had sensed and _found_ her. Standing up, she tried to leave hectically, scrambled over yelling students in hopes of getting away before it was too late.

"_SQUAWK!"_

A single sound of the dragon and she froze almost instantly – she could see the exit of the tribunes just a few more steps… fifty maybe, it wouldn't even take her a minute to cover them and be in safety, cover them and save the audience. Wind blew into her face and wiped stray curls out of her face as she slowly turned around against all logic yelling at her, she instinctively rather faced a threat than having it in her back.

Six, yellow eyes were trained on her, the Firecrow positioned just opposite of her – locking gazes with the enemy, it opened its mouth; Hermione knew almost instantly what would happen.

"Duck!"

As the fireball hurled towards the tribunes, Hermione fixated the fireball and reminded herself of how to take out a fire – she took a deep breath and breathed the ball in. The fire burned a little in the back of her throat, like the first Firewhiskey she'd had, but other than that it was hardly different. The dragon glared at her; she was aware that other Firecrows were normally not really capable of doing that.

"Granger!"

She shot a desperate glance at the headmaster, whose eyes were wide in fear – apparently he had just now remembered _who_ of his students possessed an ebony wand with a dragon string core.

"_Mobilicorpus."_

She saw Karkaroff's wand hardly move, but felt herself floating and being set down none too gently in the stadium – the reality of the situation settled in when she found herself without an advantage of height (or rather a balance of height), now shuffling at the feet of the gigantic dragon, which in turn got ready for another bout of fire.

Hermione acted, before it could meet her. Holding one hand to her stomach and her wand to her lips, she blew over the tip, releasing the fireball she had just swallowed. The dragon howled in agony as it paid with a sore eye for its slowness.

One more glance up to the stands now showed Snape yelling angrily at Karkaroff, while Dumbledore watched her with increasing worry. Harry was already out of the stadium and in safety – the audience watched with baited breath. The dragon used exactly that moment of observation to wield its deadly tail at her.

"Fuck!" she dove out of the way just in the last moment, right under the Firecrow's stomach.

It was said that the stomach was the most vulnerable part of a dragon, though she wasn't all that sure if that was really logical, seeing as dragons flew with their stomachs facing the ground. Naturally, she figured, they should be protected – nevertheless she conjured a storm of blue-bell-flames at the supposedly weak point of the dragon.

The effect was as desired: howling the dragon tried to trample her down, but soon needed to forgo that project in favour of saving itself from the severe burns. As it spread its wings, Hermione's fears from earlier were confirmed – the whole stadium was plunged into semi-darkness, when the dragon spread its wings and rose to the air; it was huge.

Hermione realized quickly, though, that that had been a rather stupid move. No question, she had harmed the dragon badly, but now it was at a serious advantage, being in the air and all, Hermione did not even have the possibility to hide behind a boulder anymore, from above the beast would see even the tiniest of her moves.

Wielding the fire around her and forming it into a whip to use it as a counter attack on the dragon itself, she thought hard on what she had read on dragons. Really, normally one did not go to provoke a dragon, and no one had been known to ever face an Icelandic Firecrow in a battle over the territory – any book-entries on them were solely based on observation. However, even those entries were short, for Icelandic Firecrows were known for their extremely advanced capacities in Occlumency.

Diving away from yet another attack, Hermione drew a deep breath as she considered this new possibility – her energy levels were far beyond that of the dragon, he could spit fire all day if he wanted to, she needed her powers to control the element though, and no matter how advanced she might be in comparison to her peers, she was no match for a dragon. If she tried to occlude the dragon, it would be worth a shot, one way or another, in the worst case she'd be fodder – but at least, she'd have tried.

Taking a last calming breath and shooting Snape, who was standing foremost on the tribunes fixating her with a steady gaze, a last look, she collected her powers and strode forward from her bolder. It was just what the dragon had waited for apparently and immediately it attacked her with an avalanche of fire, but instead of redirecting the fire, she simply breathed the fire in, hoping to be able to convert it to some form of power for herself – she was after all a fire-elementary, the element would need to have something in store for her as well.

Silently, she took a seat just on top of the highest bolder she could find and waited for the constant attacks to die down – they did.

Hermione could _hear _the whole stadium holding their breaths and asking themselves just _what the hell _Hermes Granger, know-it-all _Book-Shrimp_ was up to this time. She had meant to keep this secret, but if it meant her survival, she'd give it up – with some luck the majority of the school would not realize what was happening anyways.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she was faced with six eyes, front on – the dragon's head hovered just above her, she was surprised to not smell fetid breath as she had imagined, but instead just a puff of warm air as the dragon snarled at her. She poked its mind.

The walls shattered almost immediately and she was flooded with anger and desire to prove one-self – she smiled softly, being closely acquainted to that particular feeling. Apparently the dragon was still young, which was probably the reason why it was so eager to defeat her.

_No_, she thought, _this is my territory – I've been here longer than you've been. _

An angry squawk reached her ears, but she shook her head, immediately dissuading the dragon from yet another attack. Picture by picture she sent it messages of how she defended 'her territory' from other influences already – from Trolls and Voldemort. She noticed only belatedly that the dragon had folded its wings and was now completely set on staring her down, confusion showing in its mind. Apparently it was not so sure what she meant with her pictures, or maybe it was not even aware that it was able to _do_ Occlumency, it was likely that it had been raised in captivity.

Finally Hermione, blushing a tiny bit and sending a short prayer that no one would _ever_ find out, showed the dragon a fake memory – perhaps, if it wasn't aware that it was a natural Occlumens it wouldn't be able to separate a true memory from a fake one.

_The tall, dark-haired man kissed her with a fervor that she hadn't heretofore known existed – she hadn't even known that he had been aware who she really was. As he pressed her into the stone wall, she felt herself give in to his questing mouth. _

_It was surprisingly soft as his lips coaxed hers apart, a desperate sigh escaped her lips when finally his tongue found hers and they caressed each other with languid longing. Carefully, as if afraid to shock him away from her and the delicious feelings he was creating in her, she raised her hands to sift through his raven locks._

More confusion clouded her mind and she could tell that apparently the dragon was now at its wits end, nothing could compare to human affection after all in the dragon world. Angrily she resorted to a much more Gryffindor method.

_He took her harshly from behind, bent over her, every inch of his front pressed to her back as he held her up by one hand wound around her torso and supported himself up by one hand pressed to the mattress. Her walls pulsed around him and he knew that she was close, biting her neck softly, earning a whimper from her and yet another fluttering of her walls. Speeding up, he held her close as she started to wail._

Now the dragon emitted a desperate squawk one last time, before it placed its hind down on the ground and broke the connection – apparently it had understood the message of the fake: this territory was already claimed for a future family, there was no use to try putting up residence here.

"_You'll find yours in time."_

And as she stood up and patted the dragon, it huffed softly, crying one single tear that slid directly into her palm and died there in the cracks of her open palm. The crowd dared not breathe a syllable. Hermione dared not look at the stands, where she knew Snape to be standing.

* * *

**My version of an alp is not the same as Wikipedia's version of an alp, so just go with the flow and stimulate your imagination a little.**

**Thank you arabellagrace, chyaraskiss (you can't hurry the muse, but I'm pretty excited as well - I hope I'll be able to transform the idea into a proper story), bushyhaired-american-nerd (thank you, this is so much encouragement), TequilaNervous (Clover just fit... Lucky Charms have four leaves, so why not?), Mia Lenor (I have something special in store for Viktor, just you wait), Guest1 (there's more to come yet), douglas. bailey. 7946 (thank you for that compliment!), Guest2 (see what happens next!) and wingsrookie (thank you for leaving one even when you were on your 'way out'^^) for the lovely and encouraging reviews. **

**Furthermore, my thanks to gemini-rose16, nikyta, electronic blue bubbles, Jasie Song, blondier47,  -Zabini, music of silence, Katarin Kishika and wingsrookie for the Story Alert. **

**Also I thank chyaraskiss, Mia Lenor, nikyta, electronic blue bubbles, Katarin Kishika, Auri on the rooftops and wingsrookie for the FavS and nikyta for the Favourite Author, as well as the Author Alert along with electronic blue bubbles. **

**Hoping that I mentioned everyone, PLEASE REVIEW!**


	19. Gillyweed

**After a long (easter) break, in which I have completed three chapters and have a fourth almost finished, I gathered it is time to get back to publishing, I have a promise to live up to after all. **

**Thank you for your patience with me and please remember, I'm taking LARGE liberties with the plot. **

**ENJOY!**

* * *

For a whole week Hermione wasn't allowed to use her wand. It was just as fine with her, she was proficient enough in wandless and silent magic to work her way through her day, but it still peeved her to not be able to wield her wand at all the nosy students that now whispered about Hermes Granger in the halls.

One would have thought that her display of power would intimidate the dunderheads enough as to calm them down and not make them titter and tatter about her; however the effect was the complete opposite.

There were rumours about her being a follower of Him Who Must Not Be Named, for during the First War it appeared that he had managed to gain a few dragons for his cause – she doubted though that those creatures had truly wanted to fight a war that concerned the human race only and if occluding them had been as much as an un-hardship* as to occlude that particular Firecrow, then she could also not blame the creatures for having fallen for the dark wizard.

The worst thing about all of this, though, was probably Ronald. Whenever he was around, Hermes Granger was under no circumstances allowed even close to two feet of Harry the Saint Potter – she loathed it. _Boy Wonder_ had only survived because the dragon had reacted as she had predicted it, he would probably stew in a Firecrow's stomach right now wouldn't it have been for her. As it was though, he could relish in the luxury of having gotten away without a scratch, while she found herself to be the pariah of the school just once again.

Only during Potions Classes would she have her calm.

Neville, being the good Gryffindor that he was and running along with the opinions of the rest of his house, had abandoned his seat right next to her, instead opting for a seat next to Morgan Cudlaw, another Gryffindor.

* * *

If it affected Hermes Granger that save for his strange companions – Lovegood, Chang and Parkinson – no one talked to him and everyone avoided him as if he was the pest, he did not show it. In his personal opinion defeating a dragon and getting out with both parties alive was a feat that had to be written down in _Hogwarts: A History_, but he'd always been the 'odd-ball' – no one shared his opinion; this time not even Albus.

Snape had to admit a certain curiosity concerning the young Granger, as well as growing concern.

Granger was powerful, more powerful than he let on, and if his inklings were anything to go by, then the Gryffindor was not only farther ahead in his studies, but also farther ahead than most wizards his age. Dragons could be fought… but a wizard only held that much power, even an elementary, as Granger appeared to be.

However, as the history went, a dragon once gave the gift of Occlumency to a wizard, and that wizard continued to spread the knowledge. A young dragon was easily overcome with the right method, especially when bred in captivity and never faced with its true potential. Snape figured that it could be the reason for the Longbottom-incident not too long ago as well. Granger could have occluded Longbottom and would hence have known, what the chaotic boy had been about to add and therefore been able to avoid the catastrophe.

As of now, it was only a suspicion though, and the situation being as it was, he'd be careful to voice that particular thought – after all, Granger was a good boy, he knew it, and him being expelled would cause him even more to get on the wrong track. It was a miracle he hadn't already. Snape, in his younger years, hadn't been able to take a lot of harassing, before he'd turned to the Dark Arts, learned them and refined them for his causes. And it certainly hadn't taken a lot of persuading from the Dark Lord to get him on his side: empty promises of power and payback had been all Severus had needed. In his years of working with the Darkness and the Light equally, he'd learned very quickly that a thing such as a truly dark heart existed, while he had yet had to come over something like a truly pure heart – but seeing Granger, he believed that he might have found it.

Who, with just a speck of darkness in his soul, would have continued to endure assaults to their intelligence, pride, to their reputation, to their person even throughout the years without ever complaining and then even turning around and helping the same people who'd tortured him?

There was only one person for it, and it was Hermes Granger. And as much as it aggravated him to admit it, the boy was a bloody Saint for this.

* * *

She watched the boy with guarded eyes. He'd asked for a clandestine meeting – it wouldn't do after all to anger _sweet Ronniekins_ by openly going against him and choosing to talk to the pariah of the school.

"So?" she grit through her teeth after the boy had related his problem to her – he'd come to her for her brains, not even an apology about how he behaved, how his boyfriend behaved, they'd never even thanked her for having left the dormitory so they could have their… liaison.

No, Harry had come here, had loaded off his problems and hoped that Hermes Granger would simply solve it all.

She regretted the words the instant they had left her mouth – sighing, she hid her face in her hand and sat down on the ground in front of the Forest, patting the ground next to her. "Sit, Harry, I will take some thinking…" she stopped shortly as another thought struck her, "…though if you need to be somewhere and don't want to be seen here, I'll think of it alone and just send you an answer as soon as I've come up with an idea."

At least, she figured, he had the modesty to blush as he quickly excused himself from her and hurried back to the castle. Hermes Granger felt like crying – it was useless, she knew that, but it still hurt her to see that after all these years, after everything she'd done for this school and the people in it, after everything she'd done for Harry and Ron, they still didn't believe in her.

"Peetey." She called weakly, and on cue the small elf appeared, its ears drooped at the sight of her desperate Mistress. "Could you please, just this once, pop me into my room?"

The elf did not ask questions – Hermione had never asked an impossible service and Peetey had, more often than not, proposed that if they wished to escape from the library unseen, she'd be more than willing to wink them out of there without a sound. Hermione had always declined, convinced that they'd get caught sooner or later and that the elf would find herself unemployed, but this time around, she really didn't have the strength to run the gauntlet again.

They winked out without a sound and Hermione was carefully undressed by the elf, who knew best about the wounds she had carried from her fight against the dragon – having done a large healing part – and then ushered into bed, where finally she cried herself into a fitful sleep.

* * *

"Hermes."

An acknowledging nod was all the Clover received from her upon Luna's greeting, but they all returned the gesture – it was obvious that the Gryffindor witch had to keep up appearances, and the best thing was to let people believe that they really didn't grate on her at all.

The four friends made their way to the stands. Pansy looked at her friend with concerned eyes; Snape had pulled her aside yesterday and had asked her about Hermes – he'd noticed the small signs: her loss of appetite, her notorious head-first dive into studies and of course the callousness to most of the staff. Now though, it appeared, that they could add insomnia to the list as well.

Hermione played her part too well, she was an extraordinary witch, Pansy had to give her that. It did not even take her an hour to figure out a new spell and all the workings behind it – her mind was brilliant; as was her wand-work. The organizational skills she brought with her had saved their hides more times than either of them really dared to count; add to that the fact that she had been able to befriend Boy Wonder and still stay undetected and one had to congratulate her.

"Potter." She snarled angrily as she was about to go up the stairs to watch the spectacle. The boy insecurely separated from his teacher's side and trotted to her side. "Where's your side-kick?"

Harry did not answer, and she shrugged it off – who cared where Weasley was. Making sure that no one exactly saw what she was doing, she pushed a slimy ball of gillyweed into Harry's hand, who almost dropped it. Hermione snarled.

"Don't you dare drop it you prat." She had caught it just in time to push it into his hands again, this time fixating him with a cold stare. "It will allow you to move freely under water for an hour, swallow it just before you jump in." And with a last push she shoved him away from her and went up the towers.

Harry succeeded of course. The Clover watched until the last minute when finally Harry and Ronald both resurfaced, along with Delacour's younger brother – of course _Boy Wonder_ got all the applause. Hermione nodded once, satisfied her plan had worked, and then left her place on the tower. Silently the Clover followed, Pansy carefully brushed her Head of House as they passed him, sending him a glance – he noticed immediately that one of the supposedly best friends of Potter left in a flurry of billowing cloak and whipping hair, just after the idiot had resurfaced.

* * *

"Tell me, Potter, how come you miraculously managed to stay under water for such a long time. We know of every champion's trick, save yours…" he drawled as he came to stand in front of his favourite voodoo-doll, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "Could this possibly be linked to the theft of… gillyweed from my personal stores?"

Silence had settled over the students in the very moment he had entered the class and not even a Slytherin dared to breathe as he nailed down Potter. Snape _knew_ that it hadn't been Potter – after all, he had wards on his personal stores, and even though they'd been carefully piled off, the intruder had still missed the last, and most subtle, ward Snape had set. A simple bell-ward that would alarm him of any intruder.

_Granger's figure on his ladder had made him stop momentarily – he would never have thought that the boy would steal from him. He'd wanted to immediately dock points, put the prat into the detention of his lifetime and then expel him, when he'd realized that the boy was crying. _

_He'd carefully put the gillyweed from one jar into another and then replaced the half-empty jar into his stores. _

"_Merlin, professor, I am so sorry." He whispered and for a moment Snape feared that he'd been detected by a green-horn, but Granger continued his soliloquy as he stepped down the ladder again, and reset the wards on his stores meticulously. "Geez, he'd be so angry. Probably dock points endlessly and then still be enraged…" the boy sighed, "and he'd be right." Lifting the glass his secret-star-student observed the floating gillyweed. "Potter will never know how to appreciate this. Hopefully I only get detention for that." _

Snape had noticed how haggard looking Granger had been the next day, as if he'd slept nothing – Parkinson affirmed his suspicions later. That boy was his personal Granger-spy and he was doing an exceptionally good job at it, forwarding him any information he wanted and never once ratting out about it. He'd be a good asset to whoever he'd work for one day.

Out of the corners of his eyes he watched as Granger slowly rose from his chair – he turned with a practiced threat in the movement, pinning the Gryffindor down. Inside his soul soared at the bravery this young man showed: no one in their right mind would have even moved a finger when he was in one of his moods.

"Professor you are wrong." The boy said, staring straight ahead, eyes fixed on the blank black-board ahead of him. The class dared not breathe, and Potter slowly turned his head, eyes wide – Snape bit back a smirk, _now_ Potter would see just what of an asset Granger was… the whole school would.

"Am I now, Mister Granger?" he sneered, stalking towards the boy. He did not shiver, not a flinch betrayed him – he applauded the young man silently. "And pray tell, why would I be wrong?"

This time around, the Gryffindor swallowed, before moving his eyes just ever so slightly, meeting his own and then opening his mouth. "Because, sir, Harry doesn't even know where your private stores are." He responded.

Snape smirked maliciously. "And you do?"

"From the staircase, sixth door to the right." The Gryffindor replied without missing a heartbeat – he was intent on getting this detention, though Snape was not so sure why exactly.

Surely as Head Snake he'd devised the plan in order to help Granger get back in the good books of the school – and especially the headmaster, who'd taken to watch the young man more than just carefully – but maybe Granger was a tad bit masochistic and thought that he deserved the punishment… which he actually did, if he was quite frank with himself, so maybe it was just his effing Gryffindor righteousness and the inability to back down when he should.

A sneer protruded on his face. "I should expel you, you insolent waste of air." The boy did not once blink. "I think that a hundred points from Gryffindor and a month worth of detention, as of now, shall suffice. Sit back down and do not utter a word in my class, or I swear by everything that is supposed to be sacred, such as my stores, that I _will_ have you expelled."

It was relatively needless to say that Granger sat back down and was silent for the next few hours. He delivered perfect potions and homework, spoke only when asked and even then only very shortly. Unfortunately it did not really get the boy back into the good books of Gryffindor… or anyone for that matter.

* * *

* Yes, I'm aware that isn't a word ;)

**Thank you renaid (for the compliment especially =D), orlando switch (I'm glad you like it), arabellagrace (we can't have that, now can we?), TequilaNervous (it was meant to be), Mia Lenor (thank you for the enthusiastic comment! you push me), douglas. bailey. 7946 (It was a special cookie for the likes of you ;P), APeaceOfPie4Everybody011 (thank you very much), Allyll (I'm always glad to share with those who are partial to it), bushyhaired-american-nerd (I take that as a compliment, if you don't mind XP), EmilyWoods (thank you!), wingsrookie (everything would end far too soon if that'd happened, I fear...), Et Cadet Satan Stabit (=D thank you), semicharmed (thank you for the semi-charming reviews XD, no honestly, thank you also for correcting ;P), and ShineLovely for ALL THE REVIEWS!**

**My gratitude also to APeaceOfPie4Everybody, Namir Pyralis, MandyJ, lizziebug, Helleana, Ai-Tsukiyo, cptmds and semicharmed for the Story Alerts. **

**And thanks as well to gothamsreckoning, MandyJ, Helleana and CrazyKurenai for the Story Favourings. **

**PLEASE REVIEW! **

**I'll see to it so I can update the other finished chapters as soon as possible, so prepare yourself for several chapters coming at once soon :)**


	20. Secrets

**HEY! So, this is part one of the two stories I'll load today/tonight. **

**I feel a little warning is in order - here is where the story will get a tad bit violent so... I'd like to say prepare, but I don't know how people will react, everyone reacts differently; just consider yourself warned, okay?**

**Enjoy nonetheless!**

* * *

"It's burning! I'm telling you he's back!"

Snape was not quick enough to roll Karkaroff's sleeve down as Granger appeared for his detention. Both wizards stared at the young new-comer, who was intelligent enough to act as if he had seen nothing and set to complete the task Snape had prepared for him.

As Granger worked on cleaning out the potions store he'd assaulted, without magic of course, ingredients were very delicate, Snape watched him carefully. He was sure that he had seen the mark, but why had he acted as if nothing had happened? Surely as a friend of Potter Granger _knew_ what the Dark Mark was… not only that, but he'd also been at the raid this summer.

There was, of course, a way to find out, though technically it would be illegal and if Granger was versed in the art of Occlumency as he suspected he was, then his actions would have nasty consequences, but it was still worth a try. Preparing himself to delve into the thoughts of his student, he was suddenly interrupted by no one else than the headmaster, who slowly walked down the staircase.

"Well, well…" the old coot crooned at the sight of Granger climbing up the ladder to put back a few glasses full of eyes – it irked Snape a little that the boy did not once even pull a grimace at what was supposed to be heavy physical labour. "Mister Granger, would you come down for a second?"

Granger was just about to set the eye-filled glass down, and now stopped mid-action, taking a deep breath. "Sir, if I might just deposit this first?"

Snape watched with rapt attention the precarious situation the student found himself in. Of course a question of the headmaster was as much as an order and any other student would have come down with the glass again, Granger however teetered with carefully measured muscle-involvement on the top of the ladder on the balls of his feet, holding the class at chest-height arms bent. The headmaster took his sweet time, leaving the student in his predicament, before he nodded. "Of course my boy, Severus if I might borrow him for a few minutes."

"He's supposed to serve detention for his… misstep, but if you deem it absolutely necessary, headmaster."

"I do, Severus, I do." Granger put the glass on the shelf with a grace and softness that Snape would not have expected from any of his students, but Burrcockle eyes were hard to get, and the quantity that he had accumulated over his years was probably legendary, he was glad that someone knew how to handle rarities.

"Granger, get down here and next time try to be careful about depositing invaluable things." He snapped. The Gryffindor mutely nodded and clambered down the ladder. "Your detention continues afterwards."

* * *

"You know… if no man is ever able to kill Voldemort, then just _how _did he die last time?" Cho asked Hermione over the table at the Restricted Section.

To their luck they had found a table at the very far end of the Section that was hidden in an alcove and therefore hardly ever visited; their imprints in the dust were proof of that. The Clover had huddled together after Hermione had recounted them what she had seen in her detention.

Hermione shook her head. "I don't think he died, per se."

Luna agreed. "Yes, because if he'd really have died, he wouldn't have sought the school out again. Only ghosts can do that and they do not have a chance of being revived at all." The dreamy voice of Lysander echoed silently through the walls.

Parcival narrowed his eyes. "So you mean to say that _he_ never really died that he… is in a state of in-between?"

Again the Gryffindor negated. "I think that he was not killed, but also the in-between is too far away to describe where he has gone to." She sighed characteristically and the three friends leaned in, knowing that the witch would explain one of her theories to them in 3…2…1…

"I think that his _body_ was destroyed, but not his _essence_, not his soul. The latter stayed in this dimension, but we weren't able to see it, to touch it, for it is only essence. Quirrell housed it in our first year, Luna… surely you remember. Also… I figured that… well, Potter really couldn't be described as a _man_ at the age of one, so him disembodying Voldemort does not really cross out the prophecy."

The three nodded and Cho spoke up again. "So is it prudent to say that maybe we should start to train for the probability of _him_ attacking…"

Luna nodded, but Pansy's eyes narrowed again. "That will not be pretty." She ground. "Death Eaters throw every hex that can be considered dirty and go even beyond that. Their repertoire consists of everything that we do _not_ learn in DADA."

Hermione pinned her down with surprisingly hard, but determined eyes. "Then that is exactly what I will prepare for, who is with me?" It was decided that a preparation for the worst was just what was needed – desperate times call for desperate measures.

* * *

The lantern in his hand glowed softly as his eyes raked over the soft features of the figure in front of him.

Actually he'd known that something was off with Granger, he'd known that student had been different from anyone else – he just hadn't been aware just _how_ different Granger had been from the rest of the masses.

The smooth curves of a young woman could be seen, now that the _Glamours_ were gone and Severus could not help himself but to rake his eyes over the beautiful lines that were offered to his sight. Hermes Granger… or simply Granger, for he did not know her true name, was a woman – a witch actually, and a very powerful one at that.

She could not have known about the magic of the Restricted Section, tying anyone to the desk they were sitting at if they sat too long and transforming the desk into a bed that would be so criminally soft that the intruder would be found in a bed, if not caught in flagrante.

But here he stood, lantern in hand, eyes raking over what would one day be a beautiful woman, for sure. She shivered slightly from the cold night air and on a gentlemanly reaction – for he might be her professor, but he was not a Neanderthal – he removed his cloak and placed it on her for extra warmth, before extinguishing the lantern and sitting down next to her pondering on his next step concerning the witch.

Her breath smelled sweet and as he took up his first guard, he wondered just how she had found herself in an all-boys wizarding school – he hadn't even been aware that witches existed at all…

* * *

Taking a cleansing breath to rid herself of any unsavory thoughts, Hermes positioned herself opposite of Harry.

A day prior, the Champions had been informed that they would need to conquer a labyrinth in order to get to the Cup. Whatever would happen inside the labyrinth would stay inside the labyrinth. But it was obvious that if Champions run into each other, there would be duels – nasty ones; after all: the determination to win could overtake anyone.

She was reluctant to let Harry close to her again, she was aware that he would hurt her again sooner or later, and even though she'd proven herself by standing up and plucking Snape's detention from him, she still hadn't been redeemed. It was hence that they found each other in the third-level corridor, in the same room Fluffy had once inhabited.

"What would you like to learn, Potter?" she asked. Her voice was calm and friendly, but measured correctly in order to keep the established distance. The black-haired young man flushed when she addressed him and stammered incomprehensibly. Hermione's eyes narrowed just a little bit. "If you have no idea what you want to learn, then why did you ask me to come?"

Surely they hadn't gone back to ambushing her…

This time when the boy spoke up, she finally understood him. "I… kind of thought that you would have a plan… as to what could be useful… and stuff…"

Of course – she repressed a groan – Potter would always rely on Hermes Granger, even though he'd never say it aloud. He'd expected his friend to be helpful even though he shunned him like the rest of the school. She should probably be angry at the boy for that, but somehow she found that she couldn't be: he didn't know better, did he?

"Well, let's just see what you can do already, those years of fighting Voldemort must have paid off somehow, and then we'll see what we can do to refine your techniques and add a few spells to your repertoire, yes?"

Potter did not argue and Hermes silently drew her wand, casting a silent spell at the young man – the stunner hit him unawares. When he scrambled up, Hermione was waiting patiently.

"First lesson: Your opponent will _always _enter into a duel with you, whether you notice it or not."

Harry nodded a bit stiffly, before they started again. Hermione was largely relentless, Harry could not take a pause when he wished to, he needed to build up his stamina even getting him used to a two-hour period of fighting would do nothing for that. They were finished when he was depleted and then some.

"I doubt that there will be… physical combats." She said when they sat down and calmed their bodies back into normalcy, Hermione had less of a hard time, she was used to fighting three at a time. "Wizards don't enter a combat if they don't know if they will have a chance – that's unlikely, especially when there is a chance that they might outrun you and still get the Cup without needing to spend much needed energy. It is unnecessary hence to start grappling… but if I were you I'd start running rounds."

_Four-eyes_ looked at her a bit startled. "Running rounds? Why?"

The aggravated sigh made it past her lips, even though she'd tried to hold it back. "Potter, use your brain." She bit. "You'll be in a labyrinth, you have no idea how long it will take any of the participants to get to the Cup and finish it for you, or for you to get to the Cup, you need the stamina!"

He shook his head. "You're an odd one, Hermes… I am seeker, I _have_ stamina."

Hermione glared at him. "Sitting on a broom, yes, you can do that for hours, but can you keep on your feet, constantly in a fast pace for hours? Through the night even? I somehow doubt it."

* * *

"_Crucio."_

Hermione's body burst in agony when her friends cast the spell. She was rather used to it now, to the strange sensation of hurt and fire licking at her nerves, grating on her consciousness and trying to rip her _Glamours_ from her. It took everything of her to not open her mouth and simply _scream_ – to let it all out and be done with it. But she had been willing to undergo this treatment, everyone of them was; it was necessary after all.

"Merlin…" she panted, just when her fingers started to feel like cotton and her mind was about to give in to the beautiful blackness that she could see dancing in front of her eyes.

On cue the feeling stopped and she breathed relieved when she felt the floor underneath her hands – it was stony, solid and even if she was still immersed in blackness, at least she could _feel_ something else but pain.

"Hermione?"

A hand carefully turned her on her back, before she felt the soothing energy of Healing Magic settle over her. Groggily she opened her eyes. "Luna … become a nurse … velvet magic." She babbled and above her the mouths of her friends parted into friendly smiles. Luna's healing was legendary in their small group; no one was quite as apt at it as Luna was. Her magic felt like a warm, fleece blanket settling over you and healing your wounds in one go. The blonde smiled as she continued to heal the broken skin of Hermione. She was still a bit woozy from the curse, but still she turned to Pansy. "How long?"

The Slytherin smoothed her locks back, before she answered. "Ninety minutes, we took turns in the casting you know. You're a strong one little _Shrimp_."

Hermione nodded and closed her eyes again, fighting the urge to vomit – there was always a small moment, where she wished for nothing more than to empty her stomach, but she knew from experience that once she started, there would be no stopping for a good amount of time.

"That's it, Hermes, deep breaths, good girl."

Hermione knew what she looked like, she had seen Cho in her position, had seen Pansy in her position and even Luna – the faces were sweaty with perspiration, pale from the onslaught of illegal curses and their eyes normally glassy and unfocused. The occasional twitch of a limb was also nothing to be too concerned off, as well as the broken skin that would issue from the muscles straining against their containment.

They always took care of one another afterwards, but once a month, the endurance had to be re-evaluated and they needed to look just how long they'd be able to keep their wits about them. Ninety minutes wasn't bad at all, she had to admit to herself, feeling a little proud of her accomplishment, maybe they'd be advanced enough to take it a level farther even.

As she was carefully perched on the bed, the Clover huddled together, pressing their bodies against the cursed one, she sighed in relaxation. Being subjected to a torturous curse as the Cruciatus always left one bereft on the inside they had noticed quite early, and cuddling, as strange as it sounded, helped knit the psychological scars together more quickly.

Hermione sighed as Luna nestled into the crook of her neck and cooed softly, while Cho pulled her onto her lithe form and Pansy gently laid her arm over her chest. Hermione felt safe in the arms of her companions, she felt as if no matter how often she'd fall, she'd always be caught by them. Exhaustion took over before she really noticed it, lulling her into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

**Thank you renaid (he's not silly... much; he just wasn't used to being beaten at his own game - how many of us really are?), Anon (thank you =D), douglas. bailey. 9746 (lucky you then ;P), bushyhaired-american-nerd (thank you, Severus is a very challenging character for me to write sometimes...), Helleana (doing so now, ma'am), Allyll (I hope you'll still like it in the future), nikyta (she's a tough one, our Hermione, no worries ;)), Paloma Gomes (uhm... obrigado? is that correctly said?), arabellagrace (understandable, hum?), quattrecskids (thank you for the compliment, it just gave me an enormous ego boost :D), TequilaNervous (I thought about putting it in his chambers, where it should be logical, but that would have been... well somewhat awkward to write... and apparently JKR thought the same, because Hermione was certainly not in his chambers when she stole the Boomslang Skin so... yeah, his private storage), semicharmed (yes, that's possible... where precisely?) and ousia (thank you very much, I'll strive to do so) for all your lovely reviews.**

**My thanks go to GreenandGold, LB2008 and Meian as well for the Story Alerts. **

**And lastly, I'd like to thank douglas. bailey. 9746, Charyan and Will love ever come for the Story Favs =D**

**Please Review!**


	21. The Cup

**Curious how Snape will react? HA! I'll torture you for another chapter or so... ;P No, honestly, no Snape in this chapter... or no Snape in-depth...**

**Anyway ENJOY!**

* * *

Krum observed Hermes.

He was intrigued by the young man and his school-mates were aware of this; all of Durmstrang had taken to shadow the curly-haired man who usually had his nose in a book. It took some serious skills to survive a fight with a dragon – and to Viktor's knowledge the lithe boy had not entered the tournament.

Now, he had to admit that it had been foul play of his headmaster to have levitated the _Shrimp_ – for that was what he was called in this school – into the arena without him being prepared, but he understood the necessity of it. A _Logar-Vorogna_, Firecrow as it was called here, always fought its own kind and it appeared that the wand of Granger had a dragon string at its core that corresponded to this type of dragon.

The Bulgarian seeker watched from the shadows when the whole school turned their back to a wizard that could probably have conquered them with a blink of an eye. And yet he carefully studied the selected politeness with which the mentioned wizard treated anyone who came his way. No ill word ever passed his mouth and Viktor had heard enough of them since his arrival to know when one was spat out.

No, Hermes Granger resorted to books and learning, instead of using his skills to instill terror and fear, it was a trait that coaxed the respect even out of Igor Karkaroff. Krum knew that in a week, the Christmas feast would be held and for the sake of international relations, each foreign student was asked to sit on a table with a native student. It sounded strangely like a date to him, but he acknowledged that the best way to get to know another country was by its countrymen and interaction – he assumed that it was just as right with him, but he wanted Granger.

* * *

She was wonderfully ignored as she worked on her thesis on the uses of flobberworms in potions and sighed contently, finally being left in peace from both Ronald and Harry - there was now no need to answer their incessant questions, no need to practically write their assignments for them and she was finally able to concentrate on her own work.

Unfortunately though, the Yule feast neared, and people were looking for companions that would fill their tables. Apparently tables of ten were allowed and for the sake of international relations one at least had to _try_ to interact with one of the foreign students.

Actually, she had thought about simply joining her friends, but she had found out rather soon that it was not as easy as that… Cho had been asked to join Cedric Diggory; she came from a wealthy family after all and Diggory liked them just like that. Pansy's presence had been required at some pureblood table by none other than Draco Malfoy. And Luna would be off with… well, she didn't know exactly, which left her to either not join at all, or simply sit at a random table and hope that she would not be noticed, while she'd read a book.

However, as it was, she had been lucky to have been asked already and she was quite satisfied with herself for having accepted. Ron came over to her looking as smug as the day he thought he knew something better and bent over her solitary table.

"So Hermes, you got someone to accompany you to the feast?" Annoyed she set down her quill and glared at Ron from under her curly hair, maybe if she stared long enough, he'd burst into flames and simply leave her alone.

"Why do you ask, Weasley?" she retorted, the red-head smirked, still not bursting into flames.

"Well you know, I mean… it's alright for friends if they come alone to the feast and then… find each other, but for someone like you it's simply… sad."

Hermione's blood boiled – oh the audacity of that prick! First ignore her and then try to take advantage of her supposedly vulnerable situation. Angrily she shut her book with a loud _'thump' _making Snape's head snap up from the position he was in, leaned against the wall at the far end of the room – his eyes immediately zoomed in on them. "Just so you know, Weasley, I already got an invitation." She hissed, standing up and handing in her perfect essay, before she stomped back to the stunned idiot and added: "And I said yes."

* * *

Viktor Krum and his friends were actually quite nice – only: they spoke English very badly, but it was nothing that Hermione couldn't fix.

"_Converteo."_ And with a simple spell, she spoke English, while they spoke Bulgarian, but each understood the other perfectly.

Krum asked a lot about the schools in England, the people, muggles, he was interested in everything and everyone it seemed and Hermione enjoyed herself immensely and listened to the stories of the Bulgarian students: of when Boris got his ass kicked by a broom, or when _their_ twins tried a new spell and ended up hanging in the air for a week, because there was no way to get back down to earth.

It was only later when she and Viktor remained from the merry round, the rest had given up trying to swallow the _vodka_ they'd smuggled to the feast with them, that finally the seeker of Bulgaria started to ask her more personal questions, she could quickly see where this was going.

She smirked at him. "You want to know how I defeated the… how'd you call it, _Logar-Vorona_? The Firecrow?"

"You beat me at my own game!" he exclaimed when he found that he had been detected and they saluted each other with their drinks, then the young man nodded. "Yes… I admit that it intrigues me how someone… well, how you could beat such a beast."

Hermes Granger gave him another smirk. "You mean someone as brainy and lithe and generally unathletic, bar a few flying-lessons, as me could beat a huge, fiery, untamable dragon like that."

"You're good at reading in between the lines, Hermes… if I may call you that." Of course she agreed – she liked the young man good enough to allow him to call her by her faux-name. About to recount her story, she noticed Ron and Harry on the neighbouring table, both glaring at the wall ahead; it was apparent that they were miffed at her for having _such_ a companion. She still wasn't keen on them overhearing her little secrets.

"I will tell you, but I will not tell the rest of the populace." She said again, and Viktor understood what she had meant, guiding her outside on the balcony.

* * *

Cho, Luna and Pansy were sitting next to her, anxiously watching the four candidates that now stood in front of the giant labyrinth. Hermione had coached Harry until the last day, but she could tell that he had not taken any of her advises and had instead taken to listen to Ronald rather than her. It wasn't her problem anyways, she vouched for Durmstrang – Viktor was a much better winner than Harry, even though it would do nothing to minimize the ego of the Bulgarian seeker.

Just as the canon was shot, Hermione stood and raised her right hand, along with the Durmstrang school. Her middle finger was crossed over her ring finger, while the other fingers were stretched out, Viktor, it seemed, looked only at her and smiled, before he returned the greeting with his left hand and then vanished into the labyrinth. When Hermione sat down, she took a deep breath.

"Now… we have to wait and pray that our predictions were wrong." She breathed.

* * *

The Cup was gone, the labyrinth vanished and Hermione saw, for the split of a moment, Viktor not so far away from the place where the Cup had been. A portkey – and Harry was nowhere to be seen.

An angry roar went through the masses, but the Clover had already stood up, bustling through the crowd and hurrying towards the point where the Cup had been prior. Cho waved her wand slightly and waited for a reaction – it came in the form of a few words lighting up in the darkness.

"Godric's Hollow… Cemetery." She breathed.

When Hermione grabbed the next best rock and created a portkey, she turned one last time to look at Viktor, who stared at her with wide eyes – she repeated the motion from earlier, just this time with her left hand, before the key was activated and she was carried away.

* * *

"Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son." Cho's eyes were misting when she sighted Cedric not far away from where Harry stood, his features lifeless and cold. There was no question now, what the green-flash from earlier had been.

"Flesh of the servant, willingly given, you will revive your master." Oh, Wormtail, that disgusting little bastard, so intent was he on gaining power that he would even give a hand for it. Hermione barely contained her wish to kill the bastard, before he could finish whatever he was doing, but Harry was still in grave danger.

"Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken, you will resurrect your foe." Harry cried out when the blade cut through his skin and marred the silver with angry, red splashes of his life-essence.

Just when she thought that it was safe to attack, Pettigrew heaved a small bundle of _something_ from the ground and threw it into the cauldron. Harry yowled painfully, like she had witnessed him do when his 'foe' was near, but this time, it appeared that Voldemort _was _coming again.

"Holy bludgers." Pansy breathed. The cauldron exploded into fire and out of the burning masses stepped a darkly clothed, reptilian-like, white skinned man with angry, red eyes. "Nimue help."

Hermione swallowed strongly, thinking of Viktor who'd looked at her with huge eyes, as if he'd known what would happen and hadn't wanted her to follow, but that was not important now – what was important was that _this_ was Lord Voldemort, most powerful dark wizard since Grindelwald.

"Shield your thoughts." She whispered and threw up her own walls – Voldemort was said to be a Legilimens and they couldn't risk to give away their location by letting him hear their thoughts. "And Pans, send your patronus to inform Dumbledore, be quick about it."

Pansy's dragonfly was the smallest of the patronus and there was a higher chance of it going unnoticed than if anyone else would send their patronus. When the animal had flown into the night at lightning speed, they watched as dark masses swirled from the sky and into the graveyard.

It was the same as at the Leaky Cauldron, they appeared in dark robes and skull-masks, bowing in front of their master. Voldemort had but words of disdain for them. It was then when finally Harry was freed and entered what could quickly become a duel with the dark wizard that Hermione saw her opening.

"Now."

* * *

It was vicious; Pansy had to admit that. They might have prepared for an eventuality like this, and they were lucky that the Death Eaters were not numerous, but they were still a lot darker than they had originally anticipated.

"_Decapito." _Goyle snarled at her, she blocked the spell and forwarded a slicing hex of her own – it never met the suddenly fleeing Death Eater.

One after another they vanished into thin air, as if feeling that something, or rather someone, neared and would do everything to destroy them. "Keep him there!" she yelled at Luna, who was engaged in a dangerous one-on-one match with none other than Igor Karkaroff. But the Death Eater soon found that he was circled from three sides and when his attacks faltered and he tried one last attempt at Occlumency on Cho, he found that he was bound and gagged, blinded on the ground.

"Let go, Harry! Let go! I can hold it for a moment!" Hermione stood right behind Boy Wonder, screaming at him to finally break the connection, for nothing else was holding him locked in a deadly match with Voldemort than the connection of their wands. A silvery dome of magic had spread around them, milky faces of dead people appearing and vanishing again. "Now, Harry!"

And when Boy Wonder let go, breaking the connection, Hermione danced out of the way of the deadly curse and sent a hex towards Voldemort. He glared at her for a moment and when Pansy felt the first brush of Dumbledore's magic, the dark wizard disappeared in a blur of black robes.

* * *

Diggory was dead, nothing could change that – Hermione was angry at herself for not having arrived earlier, for not having stopped Pettigrew earlier; surely Voldemort had been incredibly vulnerable in the state between un-being and resurrection, and she'd done nothing.

The upside was, they'd caught Karkaroff… and Snape had not been at the resurrection. Viktor looked at her with deep eyes and she went to sling her arm around his shoulders as they strode down to the lake, where the Durmstrang boat stood. She cast her translation spell, before she started speaking.

"I am sorry for your mentor." She said silently, but Viktor only shook his head.

"You know, as well as I do, that if that was his way, then he got what he deserved for having such a weak will."

Durmstrang's ship was gigantic and pompous, to Hermione it looked simply magnificent. They stopped in front of it and Viktor turned to look into her eyes, his large hands on her scrawny shoulders.

"Promise me, Hermes, that no matter how badly you are treated you will not turn towards that monster." He implored her and she smiled, putting her hands on his broad shoulders.

"I promise, Viktor, that the only way I will turn to him will be with my wand raised and the killing curse on my lips." The Bulgarian seeker guffawed and she smirked when he patted her on the head.

"I know your secret." He finally admitted. "You lost your _Glamours_ the day you returned with Karkaroff."

Hermione blushed furiously and tried to step away, but the Bulgarian seeker pinned her down with his hands, a small smile forming on his lips. "In our country, women like you were called _hagazussa _– fence riders. If they still exist then they do so secretly, but it is said that we wizards only received our powers, because we were nasty enough to coax their secrets from them and lock them away." He looked at her for a long moment, before he stepped closer.

"_Velum."_ He whispered into her ear and Hermione laughed when she realized that the young man had cast a privacy charm around them, before he looked at her again. "Could I see you… a last time?"

Her _Glamours _wordlessly fell away, revealing the young woman she was blossoming into, softening her features and smoothing her curves to womanly treasures. The seeker smiled broadly as he leant in again. "And what a _hagazussa_ you will be one day."

His kiss came abrupt but was welcome either way. His lips were astoundingly soft and careful and she allowed herself to be pulled into his form, receiving her first kiss. It was anything she'd have dreamed off and nothing she would have ever imagined.

When they departed, she lifted her right hand, her middle finger crossing over her ring finger and the rest of her fingers stretched out.

"_It is a sign of luck." Viktor smiled at her as he coaxed her fingers into the position. "In our country the tsar used to greet his victorious warriors like this." _

"_The days of the tsar are over…" she reminded him and uncoiled her fingers, before trying to redo the motion. _

"_Indeed they are, but the significance still exists. Wishing someone luck, a farewell, if you want." He crossed the fingers of his left hand. "And if done on the left hand it is a promise to return."_

Hermione stood until she couldn't see the mast of the boat anymore, before she dared to replace her _Glamours_ and uncast the privacy charm.

* * *

**Logar-Vorogna really does mean 'Fire' and 'Crow' in Russia, PONS dictionary be thanked. ****_Converteo_ was simply derived from the word 'convert', _Decapito_ was transformed from 'decapitate' and _Velum_ can mean 'curtain' in Latin. **

**There you go, another year done - I hope you enjoyed that. I did.**

**REVIEW please :)**


	22. Cinquo

**I am SO sorry!**

**Not uploading for nearly an eternity, but sometimes life plays cruel games and in my case it was an accumulation of stupid incidents. First: my laptop broke down. So now I have a new one, but it took some time to get it, to get the data from the ruined laptop and to put it up here and well... Second: Finals. Oh I hate/love finals. While the signify the last test, they are also a bitch to learn for. Thirdly: I fell sick. Yes, all this apparently wasn't enough for whoever pulled the strings, NO I had to fall sick as well.**

**Anyway, now I'm back and I have 3 new chapters for you. As always I do not own, I took large liberties, but please enjoy. **

* * *

"Good morning, professor." She greeted kindly as she walked over to the table he had just taken his seat at with his companion. "Good morning, Mister Malfoy, can I get you something?"

"A bottle of elven wine, now shoo." Hermione was about to walk away with what she hoped was her dignity after Malfoy's snobby dismissal, when her potions professor caught her by her arm, effectively stopping her and searching her eyes.

"Actually, Mister Granger, I would prefer a really good glass of Firewhiskey, if you wouldn't mind." She nodded her head and was on her way again.

The Leaky Cauldron was mostly empty at this time of the day and Tom was at the Ministry to receive a slip that would allow him to close the bar during the night – as it was Hermione and Abraxas, Alecto's substitution, had the gastronomy to themselves. At two o'clock in the morning it was a rather quiet place – especially nowadays, when people didn't dare to be out all night in fear of what might happen.

"They're not making trouble are they?" Abraxas asked when Hermes reached the bar and loaded the orders on her tablet. The bushy-haired young man turned around to look at the cook – his eyes had always felt strange to her, his whole appearance for that matter, but he was a hearty, if a bit rough, companion and she had quickly forgotten her prejudices, she of all people shouldn't have them.

Hermes shook his head at the cook. "Don't bother – I know them, they're not pleasant company but they're not as stupid as to act up."

Abraxas nodded, but still didn't leave her out of his sight when she steered back to table thirteen – of all tables… - with the wine and the whiskey on the tray. Both wizards seemed to have noticed her departing from the bar and when she had arrived, they did not speak a word.

"Mister Granger," Malfoy spoke up and she found herself looking into his steel-gray eyes, "I was under the impression that you were… muggle-born." He began as she poured him his first glass of wine before she deposited the bottle. "How come you ended up… here?"

About to answer, she felt a small, almost unnoticeable prod at her mental barriers. She didn't answer for a moment and felt his prod retreat, she had to decide – quickly – if she wanted him to know what she could do or if it would be prudent to let him believe she was clueless. The wheels of her brain turned at high-speed. She had seen Malfoy at the resurrection rite, Luna had fought him, and he'd fled early enough – it would be stupid, she concluded, to let someone so apparently close to the Snake know what she could do, it could save her hide after all.

Taking a breath, she almost smirked when she felt his prod again, she let him in instantly. "I am an orphan, Mister Malfoy, it surprises me that your esteemed son hasn't told you so… although I imagine that he has other things to worry about, than someone like me." She could feel Malfoy shift through her fake memories, adding a bit of fear when he inspected her memories of Draco and diligently leaving out the moment when she had hexed him with birds. He was so intent on finding whatever it was, that he forgot to play his role for a moment, simply staring at her, while she answered his stare with a stare of her own.

"I see…" he finally responded, "It is almost a shame, is it not? I heard you were a powerful wizard."

What was he here for? Hermione quirked an eyebrow and set down the tray again. "Did you hear that then? Surely you must be aware that it is all talk, created simply to make a friend of Harry Potter sound stronger."

The blond quirked an eyebrow this time, as he took a small sip of his elven wine nodding appreciatively. "Why would you say something as obtuse as this, Mister Granger? Surely it can't all be just silly school-talk?"

Fortunately, guests entered the Leaky just at this moment, loud guests and from what they looked like, they were trouble – but at least she was glad to finally be able to get away from the inquisition. "I say so freely, sir, because nobody buys it anyways. Now if you will excuse me, it is unusual but we have more patrons." With a perfected bow, she left the side of table thirteen and went to tend to her other guests, but surprisingly enough Abraxas had taken to them, handling them in a rough but friendly manner. So she stood at the bar and started to pull down the bottles from their place in the cupboard to clean the old wood and put the bottles back. She did this every evening, it calmed her.

She had just taken out all of the bottles, when a soft chirp broke her out of her trance, Sif circled above the heads of the guests and after dropping a parcel straight on Malfoy's head, she swooped down on Hermione's shoulder and chirped again.

"Why, hello dear lady, how are you today, hm?" The animal butted its head against hers and Hermione stroked her just beneath her beak; the owl hooted contently. "What did I tell you about flying in the night, hm, Sif? I thought we'd discussed that already and as far as I know you even agreed with me."

The animal clipped her beak and stretched out her foot, on which Hermione found a scroll – it was from Viktor. When she detached it and sat down at a table perching the owl on her crossed feet she started to stroke the animal over her feathers. Sif was still fit for her age, whatever that might be, and she enjoyed flying the long distances to Bulgaria, but she was always so exhausted when she tried to make it back on the same day.

"One day, Sif, you'll overexert yourself, now I wouldn't want that. Then I wouldn't have you to sit on my shoulder and read my books with me anymore – that would be a pity, pretty one, hm?" The owl chirped in acknowledgment and Hermione cooed, continuously patting the owl who relished in the attention.

"Granger!"

Hermione tried to extract Sif from her form, but the owl screeched once in disagreement and fluttered up to her shoulder, where she leaned against Hermione's head and rested. It was just as well to the witch, she was used to Sif's antics by now and let the animal pass.

Carefully balancing her steps as not to jostle the wary traveler on her shoulder too much, she reached table thirteen where her professor was glaring at her by now and Malfoy had emptied the bottle of wine. "Yes, Mister Malfoy?"

"Another one, if you please." He held the bottle in her direction and she received it, noting that his speech was only slightly impaired, but she knew that elven wine – especially the one in the Leaky Cauldron – took some time to develop its full potential. She turned to her professor hence, whose glass was also empty.

"For you too, professor?" the dour man nodded, glaring at something over her shoulder, but she did not care to look. Hermes stepped back to the bar and arranged another round for table thirteen, Sif purred satisfied on her shoulder, clipping her beak when she found the owl treats in a corner where Hermione usually hid them under a stasis-spell. The barn owl swooped down and clawed a treat, immediately returning to her place on Hermes' shoulder where she nibbled on the cookie as the wizard went back to his professor and Mister Malfoy.

The elven wine had set in by now and Malfoy's speech was no longer correct, but if he didn't open his mouth, then no one would have supposed that he was not clear in his mind. The package that had landed on Malfoy's head earlier was opened and only the wrappings were strewn on the table.

"Should I clear away the wrappings, or will you need them again?" she asked, not sure if she asked her professor or Malfoy, but it was her professor who reacted anyways, while Malfoy was silently sipping his wine, giving his best to _not_ open his mouth and babble.

With a swish of his hand, he vanished the wrappings and called a chair close, beckoning it to nudge the hollows of Hermione's knees. When she ignored it, her professor gestured for her to lower herself on the stool. "Sit, Granger, I promise I won't eat you."

As strange as those words sounded by themselves already, hearing them from her professor made them sound even stranger. She sat; Sif's nibbling on her treat had turned into a veritable fight with the cookie. Normally the owl enjoyed it when her food was still wiggling a bit and treats for those fancies existed, but judging by the short, angry chirp the owl gave off, she didn't enjoy a moving treat after a long journey at all.

Clucking her tongue, she opened her palm, suggesting that Sif threw the treat into it – the owl fought with the cookie a little more, before she gave up and hurled the cookie away with a disgusted screech at the bouncing treat in Hermione's hand. Hermes did not want to know just _what_ made the treat wiggle and bounce, but she supposed that it was a charm that activated when the treat came in contact with the claw of an owl. The animals were intelligent enough to hold a treat while they took small bites of it and under normal circumstances Sif would have enjoyed her wiggling treat, but she was tired, Hermione guessed and she only wanted something to eat. Granger solved the problem without much of a thought.

Wordlessly patting her knee, the owl fluttered down on her knee, eying the unmoving treat in the palm of her hand and deciding to give it a testing peck – it didn't move. Understanding the owl hooted and started to nibble at the immobile treat that lay in Hermione's palm.

* * *

Snape had watched the short interaction of the two, while Granger only had eyes for the owl. Lucius was off to lala-land, as he always was when he drank elven-wine, but they had figured that today was a day to drink. After all, today was the day Narcissa fled the country – it was best if they just drank to forget, they wouldn't have a lot of knowledge left after they were done, especially not Lucius, he always reacted badly to elven wine.

"Where did you get that owl, Mister Granger?" he finally asked the student, who had started to stroke the feathers of the owl while it munched satisfied on the treats that she fed it.

Earlier that evening he had discreetly cast the _Finite_, simply to see her the way she really was. She blossomed into such a fine woman, every time he saw her she was just a little more mature. This year would be her fifth year, only two more years and Hogwarts would have trained their first witch. Against his up-bringing he had decided not to alert her presence to the headmaster – it may be for selfish reasons, or because it was high time that women of all statuses of birth or societal classes be allowed to participate in the full curriculum of the school of wizardry; after all they would soon enter the twenty-first century.

"I didn't get her, sir." She responded and he noticed that without the _Glamours_, her lips were plumper, ripe and more beautiful, rosy and wonderfully shaped as she spoke. Her voice was lighter when the altering charms were cancelled, softer and yet hinting on a hidden strength – it was a voice with depth. "Sif came to fetch me on my first day to Hogwarts and since then has always returned." She smiled when Sif chirped, demanding another treat. "Actually I suspect her to betray another master while she comes back to me, but until now no one has complained and I really like her."

He wondered how she would react if she would know that _Sif's_ name was _Hera_ and that she'd been the owl of his mother that had passed to him when he'd entered Hogwarts – but _Sif_ was a softer name, and after all, Hera's animal had been a peacock, not an owl. Sif fit much better than Hera… and he hardly had time for the poor animal that much was true, he hardly remembered to eat himself, let alone remembering to feed his owl; no wonder she'd taken so much to a young woman that fed her treats and stroked her so reverently. Oh what he wouldn't give to be his owl… Damn alcohol.

"Sir, do you think she'll be in trouble if found out? Normally owls don't just… _change_ masters…"

Snape was aware that he should have snarled at her, should have said something scathing and unkind, but Lucius was asleep – his second bottle of elven wine, empty – the other guests were gone and the strange cook was gone as well, they were alone. He looked at her again and wished, just this once, to know what her name was, just this once…

"Granger, I think the owl will be the last one to have problems, but since you've bribed her with treats maybe the original owner will not be too happy about that."

She was tired from what he could tell, the night-shifts grated on her, but she still pulled through, because she had decided that this was her world, even though technically she wasn't wanted here – her _Glamours _were still firmly in place, even though it was three in the morning by now. As he swallowed the last of his Firewhiskey, he mused that Apparating home _now_ wasn't an option anymore – he'd splinch himself, not to speak of Lucius who was probably dreaming about his beautiful Cissy… the fool would unintentionally splinch himself for sure.

He set down his glass, his eyes still on the young woman next to him. She was wearing one of Alecto's shirts and three-quarter jeans – daring a quick look at her legs, his mouth watered at the slim and shapely legs, and shaved, that stuck in black, flat shoes. Any wizard her age, middle-class, would have looked like her – she was incredibly apt at adapting.

"Maybe Miss…ter Granger, you'd write the bill on my name and allow the two of us to retreat to a room." Snape sighed silently, suppressing a drunken smile – though he was not sure how successful he was, when she looked at him with huge eyes, Merlin she was gorgeous.

"Of course, professor." She looked warily at Lucius – Sif had taken up residence on her shoulder again, where the owl seemed to be preparing to go to sleep. "Will you manage to… transport him? There are quite a few steps to take."

Snape nodded positively and when she grabbed the universal key and ascended the stairs in front of him, he thought that he'd carry ten Lucius if he would be allowed one glimpse of her behind in those trousers as she took the high stairs for each time he carried one. If he wouldn't have been so preoccupied in maneuvering Lucius into their room, he'd have probably drooled at the sight.

When she opened a room for them and stepped in to make sure that they were properly equipped, she helped him carefully put Lucius to bed – the care with which she arranged his body on the fluff mattress almost made him want to switch with the drunk pass-out just so it'd be him whom she'd be arranging.

There was another bed at the end of the room and he steered his steps towards that, leaving her to cover the blond man. He had sat down, holding his head in his hands, when she called him by his title – he looked up and saw her yawning.

"Sir, if you need anything, I am in the room just opposite of you. Please refrain from going down, Abraxas never sleeps and he is suspicious of either of you. And _pay_ tomorrow." He nodded when she stepped out and almost missed her quiet 'Good night' – but only almost.

He smiled to himself… just the room opposite, yes? With a flick of his wrist the lights went out and with a silent incantation, he transformed into a black cloud, invisible in the dark – he slithered through the small split of his door… and then hers.

* * *

**There are so many reviews, alerts and whatnots that I received that, at the first look at my mailbox (86 messages from fanfiction), I did not even want to go through it. BUT I decided to be a man (a womanly manly woman... or whatever) and just do it. Here, the fruits of my labour:**

**First of all, thank you all for your patience (or not patience... we'll see) and I AM SORRY FOR MAKING YOU ALL WAIT SO LONG!**

**Thank you Smurfgirlz (now that the finals are almost over, I'll be able to upload more regularly again), renaid (Viktor was strange to deal with, I'm glad you liked it), douglas. bailey. 7946 (no love-triangle, but the idea is interesting), Ceralyn (thank you), TequilaNervous (I disliked the way Harry's stamina was just taken for granted, I mean it's not the same - Also, Hermione is kickass, I just needed to show that as well), arabellagrace (I hope the wait payed up...), Known Anonymous (so sorry for the long wait, thanks for the heads up), Starflower1984 (thank you), ousia (thank you for the heads up), Allyll (I realize it took me a while, but here it is!), bushyhaired-american-nerd (I had to laugh at your review from chapter 20 - please do not be disappointed?), SMKJTF (thank you for allowing me the shortcut, it's so much easier - and also thank you for the review, I am sorry for the wait), pulchra tenebris (sorry for the wait) and Anon (thank you) for the heartening REVIEWS.**

**My thanks as well to greengummybears, Dkaraly, Dolphinfsg, Skythe Bioarch, CrazyReader3, islegion, hellsmile89, babybluebabybunny, jB Watanabe, cgkendall and DramaQueen4eva for the STORY ALERTS and to aly-child for the additional Story favouring, to pulchra tenebris for the Author favouring and the Story favouring, to hermionefan1999 for the added Author alert and the Story favouring, and Auroras Jenkins and cassandraburns for the additional Story Favouring.  
**

**And since we already started with the Story Favs, let me continue there and thank Ayumi kaya (also for the Story and Author Alert), SaikaHan, xiMenagerie (as well for the Story Alert) and Babycutiepie (also for the Story Alert).  
**

**I AM SORRY for the long delay - I hope these three chapters somewhat make it up, there's a fourth soon to expect as well. **


	23. Occlumency

**Because I said so... another chapter for all loyal readers... and because I feel like a pile of shit for not having uploaded so long. **

* * *

Harry came to them when Ron was asleep. Parcival and Lysander were reading the latest edition of the _Quibbler_ together, while Cho entertained her cat – Crookshanks – with silly little tricks such as sparks that the half-kneazle would try to catch.

When Boy-Wonder entered their compartment, the comfortable silence they had shared a few moments earlier ebbed away and was replaced with an uncomfortable air of waiting. "Hermes." He greeted her and she set down her book, motioning him to sit down opposite of her – she knew him well enough to know that he came to her when he had problems.

He accepted the invitation, ignoring the looks of the three other wizards as he sat down, wringing his hands. Hermione closed her book completely, knowing that, whatever it was, he was not happy to have to seek her out like this – at least he felt guilty about using her the way he was.

"What is it this time?" she asked gently prying his hands apart and taking them confidently into her own – he didn't blush.

"Hermes, I have strange dreams." He started and for a moment she feared that he'd start to talk about _those_ kinds of dreams, sure, she'd had them as well, but that didn't mean that she wanted to share them or even know if one of her house-mates had them. "I dream of… _him._"

The silence in the compartment was oppressive when three more pair of ears suddenly perked up, hoping to gather information to further any strategies – if Voldemort tried an attack this year again, it was best to know about it as soon as possible in order to prepare.

"The first… the first was about a man, a muggle, he… he was at the wrong time in the wrong place and… there was a giant snake, he called it Nagini, slithering through the darkness and then… green, like when Cedric… and then he was lifeless." The fifteen year old boy shivered as he recounted the details he could remember, the changing of perspectives now and then, the cold voice.

"You've been at Sirius' this summer, haven't you?" she asked calmly, purposefully turning his thoughts elsewhere, the black-haired wizard nodded enthusiastically. "What does he say?"

"Remus and Sirius suggested that… my scar may act as some sort of connection to _him _and that… it might have really happened."

Apparently though, neither Lupin nor Sirius had an idea on how to dispel the dreams and had instead continued to offer silent support – Ron, apparently, had no idea why his boyfriend woke up in the middle of the night, sweating blood and sometimes screaming for it to stop.

"There are methods to… close your mind, Potter. It is not simple, it requires discipline and concentration, not something you are known for, but I can imagine that with the right encouragement, and I guess that the wish for this to stop is encouragement enough, you might just be able to get the hang of it."

Harry would have to succeed, she figured, if knowledge got out that she _could_ indeed do Occlumency she'd probably have a lot of explaining to do, and she'd lose an advantage in her fight against Snakeface. If he wouldn't be able to block her out after a few weeks, she'd have to erect her own barriers in his mind to keep her secret – it was a length she was prepared to go, simply for necessity.

The boy nodded and she let go of his hands. "Fine, meet me in the Common Room on Monday say… ten. I won't be free before and the sooner we get started, the better."

Standing up, he was about to go, when he stopped in the doorway, looking back at her. She had reopened her book, but now answered his stare. "You know… I may not have a single clue about where you spend your nights normally, but you can really get back to our dorm." He offered.

Hermes smiled genuinely. "Thank you, Potter, but I have found a room where I can put my cauldrons and feathers and dangerous books so that neither Weasley nor you are endangered to topple over either of them. I will keep your offer in mind, but do not be negatively affected if I do not follow it."

The black-haired boy nodded. "I understand I think." And then he was gone. Pansy looked up from the Quibbler.

"I think he's grown up somewhat over the summer."

Cho shook her head while she patted Crookshanks. "It has nothing to do with the summer. But reality finally kicked in – he realized that the years of fooling around will soon have been counted, that is what made him grow up."

Luna smirked at her friend, before opening her mouth. "You sound like a sage-wizard, Cho, are you sure you're not three-hundred-and-ninety already?" Cho sent a tickling jinx at her and the blond wizard howled in gleeful agony. Hermione laughed heartily as she watched the antics of her friends.

* * *

"Now, Potter, take a deep breath. In… out… very good, again. In… out, again…"

Hermione had been right to commence 'training' as soon as possible, Potter proved to be a dense nut. Of course she was aware that every wizard had their own method on how to clear their minds, but Potter's was so chaotic that she didn't really wonder he was easy to manipulate. His defences were nonexistent and she could knife through his thoughts like warm butter.

"Good… in… out, concentrate on your breathing… on your body, your own borders… very good… continue like that, good."

It appeared that finally she had found a way for Potter to finally concentrate on what he was doing rather on what he was thinking. Slowly he relaxed in his chair and Hermione watched as he lowered his head to his chest, still breathing.

"Yes, like that. In… out, deep breaths… good… now concentrate on your lungs only, feel the way the take the air in and the way they expel it."

Hermes would have never suggested that explaining Potter every step of the way would do the trick – he was such an intuitive wizard normally, simply winged it. Then again, Potter _was_ clueless when it came to organization and Occlumency was nothing but organization, of thoughts and feelings, of what to keep and what to shove back, what to manipulate and what to create wholly anew.

"Now move your focus up higher… think of your nose as the air passes into it, as it passes out… deep breaths Potter, in… out, in…out…" Whatever she did, she did something right – it worked after all. "Good…now focus on your mind… keep your breaths even… there are thousands of thoughts bustling around… let them pass."

She watched as his even breaths continued, while he tried to ignore his thoughts, she shook her head. "Not ignore… watch them pass you… as if you sat on a meadow and watched your thoughts pass you like clouds in the sky until nothing but the clear firmament remains."

If she'd have known she had such a way with words, she'd have opted for teacher long ago… well maybe if she survived Hogwarts she'd try to apprentice somewhere and really become a teacher. Apparently she had the means to become one… well, that was if Potter would really manage to sufficiently master Occlumency.

As it was though, he was not all that bad what with watching his thoughts fly past him – the only problem was that they whirled around him like a tornado and threatened to swallow him again.

"Deep breaths Potter… control your breaths… in… out, now let them pass you, until the sky remains, a clear sky, concentrate on that sky, only on the vastness of the sky…"

Finally, she breathed, finally he'd snowed his thoughts out – it was a huge step forward, even though he only managed to keep the sky clear for a minute.

"It's alright." She placated him when he tried to regain the clear sky, but didn't manage to. "Let it go, you've done well for today. A minute is by far longer than I managed to hold it the first time. Open your eyes, slowly, and come back, you've done an exceptional job, trust me."

When Potter reopened his eyes, they had a new quality about them, something deeper she suspected. Luna had told her that she had gained a certain profoundness in her own eyes when she had finally mastered Occlumency – if that was the reason why professor Snape's eyes were so deep?

"Here, eat a little – trust me, mental exercise can be as tiring as a Quidditch game." She pushed a plate of prepared fruits towards him that Peetey had been kind enough to make them earlier, she nibbled a little on the last strawberries before the winter and thought of her strange encounter with the professor that summer, she'd been dreaming of him ever since.

"Do you think I'll be able to make it?" the black-haired boy finally asked her, interrupting her musings. She pinned him down with her quick eyes.

"Make what? Master Occlumency you mean?" The young man nodded, she shrugged in return. "Honestly, Potter, some wizards try all their life and never manage it, but this is your first lesson and thus far you've managed to clear your head for a minute at least – that's an improvement to nothing. I'd say train the clearing of your head, but knowing you that would be lost air, so… I guess that you might manage to master it, one day."

"Could you stop calling me 'Potter', Hermes? We've been friends since our first year." He finally said, obviously annoyed, Hermione slowly sat up in her fauteuil and stared at him, before she chose a very particular tone to speak with him, opting for soft, but determined.

"As I recall, Potter, you haven't talked to me since the Dragon-incident save for when you had problems and even before then might I remind you that our conversations have mostly been limited to you needing my help on anything study-related or saving your ass?" The young man blushed embarrassed, she continued. "I have tried, time and time again to be your friend, Potter. I feel no animosity towards you, but I do not think that we classify as friends."

"But I need you." He mumbled silently. "I just… can't choose between you or Ron, because while I need you for your insight, I need Ron for… my inside. How should I choose between the two of you?"

Hermione leaned back and grabbed another strawberry. "I never asked you to choose Potter, I asked for acknowledgment. I _have_ been with you throughout all the years, have saved Weasley with you if I might remind you and I think that after what I have done to ensure your protection and both your… coming together unhindered, I should have at least deserved… something, I don't know." She looked up the ceiling. "In our third-year a 'Thank you' would have sufficed, and last year a 'Sorry for my stupid behaviour' would have sufficed. Now though… now I'm not sure that will suffice anymore. Don't get me wrong, Potter, I will stand by your side, save your hide whenever I can, but the title friend is not one I will easily accept anymore."

She stood, dusting off imaginary lints from her robes simply to not have to look at the ashamed face of Boy-Wonder, it seemed as if the reality of his actions had only now settled in. Cho might have been right after all, it might be reality that had made him grow up.

"Say," he stopped her, just when she was about to climb out of the Gryffindor common room, she turned around to see him have stood up and look at her directly, "the others, Lysander, Parcival and Cho… are they your friends?"

She smiled brightly. "They are, Potter, they have accompanied me through every phase since I know them and have never left my side – I repay them in kind and we hold tight, that's how friendship as I see it, should work. So yes, they are my friends, my closest friends."

* * *

It was December when Potter came to him – too late in his opinion, but his opinion was not asked, he was only a pawn, only a spy, his opinion did not matter.

"Occlumency, Mister Potter, is an old discipline and it will take everything of you to master it, or even just _understand_ it, so be prepared to _fail_. Now," he drawled, "I will attempt to enter your mind and your task will be to keep me out and if I am in, to try to keep me from your thoughts. Ready?" he didn't really wait. _"Legillimens."_

He had thought to slide through his nonexistent defences like a rat would through the holes of a Swiss Cheese – as it was however, he realized that there _were _defences. Potter took deep breaths as he faced him off, feeding his mental walls. It took a little more than prodding to shatter the barriers and even then Potter managed quite some time to keep his mind blank.

All in all, Snape had to admit that the brat was better than he had originally assumed, but when the thoughts finally came flooding through, he searched for one in particular.

"_Do you think I'll be able to make it?" he finally asked the bushy-haired man opposite of him. Granger pinned him down with his quick eyes. _

"_Make what? Master Occlumency you mean?" The young man nodded, and she shrugged in return. "Honestly, Potter, some wizards try all their life and never manage it, but this is your first lesson and thus far you've managed to clear your head for a minute at least – that's an improvement to nothing. I'd say train the clearing of your head, but knowing you that would be lost air, so… I guess that you might manage to master it, one day." _

It was almost what he searched for, he replayed the whole memory, finally finding his thoughts confirmed. Granger knew how to occlude people and she had taught Potter, before Dumbledore had figured that training his one star-pupil in the old art would maybe solve the problems of the 'strange dreams' he'd had during the summer. Apparently they'd been too late.

"I see…" he drawled, "You've been working on it already, that's… good to know, Potter, you'll need it. However I had supposed you'd be… of another calibre, I will need to rethink our lessons. You may return to your tower."

Potter practically _flew_ out of his office, Snape stayed behind, massaging his jaw – he had to investigate something.

* * *

**Thank you for reading. PLEASE REVIEW! **


	24. Sight - Vision

**The last chapter for today... there's another one coming up shortly, promise - so this is it. Enjoy!**

* * *

"_Sectum." _

"_Expelliarmus." _

"_Ascendio."_

"_Lumos maxima."_

Luna's spell blinded her momentarily and she stopped her attacks, feeling the ropes of her friend's _Incarcerous_ tie around her body. Right before she'd regained her senses, she was confounded.

"Halt!"

Pansy's call reached her ears, but she was not sure anymore who it was addressed to, where was she, what was she doing here? Who had she been attacking?

"_Finite."_ On cue she regained her senses, and relaxed in the hold of her tight imprisonment, a flex of her hand and she was free.

Snape watched as she tumbled over the solid ground, taking a deep breath, before she smiled up at Lysander Lovegood – he smirked under his disillusionment charm, apparently his Granger wasn't the only witch. Even Parcival… he hadn't suspected the Slytherin, but now that he thought of it, why else would have four so different students of such different houses huddled together like this if there wouldn't have been one major uniting factor?

And they were all witches.

"Luna, you're improving… a lot. But you need to occlude your thoughts more, I shouldn't have been able to tell you to lift me up in the sky, right?"

The blond sighed and nodded resolutely, before Cho Chang stepped up. From what he had heard, she hadn't changed her name, and really, it wasn't necessary – no one could tell with those Eastern names anyway*.

When Granger rose from the ground and took a swig from a water jug that was provided from the room, he was granted the sight of her beautiful heaving chest in the constricting fabric of the men-chemise. The trousers clung to her figure and he watched a tiny trail of water disappear into the hidden paradise between tissue and skin.

It took some time until she had regained the majority of her powers – she sat down heavily and looked at her friends. "Right… the target… my target is to stay put, no words… just… don't be gentle with me."

"_Legillimens." _Luna, as he got to know Lysander now, obviously warred with Granger, the only witch whose name he didn't yet know, they all referred to her as Hermes… maybe she was a Hermaphrodite?

"Pansy." Cho said and he watched as his Slytherin guarded her eyes, raised her wand and cast the one spell he hadn't suspected of her to cast. _"Imperio."_

The spell took effect almost immediately. "Stand up for me." She ordered, but Granger fought for her composure, she was shaking heavily, breathing deeply in and out. Snape could not imagine the strain the refusal had to put on her, let alone while keeping an Occlumency-onslaught at bay.

"I will not say it again, Granger, _stand up_." He was surprised to find that her voice had taken on a deadly note, much as his did when he was angry – apparently it got the almost desired effect, a small piece of information he stored away for later, her legs quivered heavily, but still she remained seated on the ground.

"Granger…" Pansy drawled, altering her voice and now he was positive that it was his own voice she was imitating and Granger _fought_, hard, not to stand up. "If I asked you to stand up, it means that you were _ordered _to, now stand up… or it will be hundred points off Gryffindor…"

The Slytherin circled around the Gryffindor but still Granger would not budge. Finally Pansy looked up, swallowed once and gave Cho an imploring look. "You know… she said it… don't be gentle…"

Cho raised her wand, ever so delicately, her eyes pleading with Granger, who couldn't see her anymore, and whose strain became visible by the perspiration on her temple. _"Crucio."_

Granger's body convulsed, her back hitting the ground with such an immediate force that he was sure she'd cracked her skull. His fingers twitched beneath his disillusionment, what they were doing was dangerous, too dangerous to even contemplate it, and yet, he marveled at the strength his desirable witch brought to light – she uttered not a word, moved not an inch. Her skin cracked from her overly convulsing muscles.

He knew what the Cruciatus-curse felt like, he knew that it burned like hell and that it would probably have dire consequences for her to have played the curse like this, but as he watched on, her still not moving, he wondered if maybe exactly that had been the target of it all along. Maybe that was exactly what they were preparing for – the _worst_, because that's what would happen if Voldemort won.

Ten minutes into his musings a desperate, painful cry echoed through the halls of the Room of Requirement, and as quickly as it had come, it ebbed away. Luna hurried to Granger's side, casting a counter-spell he'd seen Poppy use on him more often than not and the witch's twitching stopped. She heaved and coughed, winced even, but he was proud to see that she did not start to vomit.

"It's alright, Hermione, it's alright… It's alright."

Hermione – he smiled, so that was her name. Luna was still bent over her, a strange purple glow emitting from her wand, while Hermione, still on the ground, eased into relaxation.

Pansy pulled Hermione's hair out of her face, gently stroking over it, while she cooed at her and Cho gently massaged her sore muscles. It was, in effect, a rather thorough caring-for, just immediately after they had put her through torture.

"Bed, please." The curly-haired witch croaked and gently she was lifted, carried to a bed not far away from him. Luna placed herself on the bed, before Hermione was lowered into her arms and relieved of her shoes. The girls placed themselves around their victim. Snape watched.

He'd suspected there to be some kind of… bond amongst the four of them. He'd just never expected to find such an extraordinary phenomenon within the walls of Hogwarts.

As he stepped out of the Room of Requirement, he thought of what he had witnessed today. It was a dueling club, and it was more than that, for surely those four witches were each other's best friends – they were the ones they could rely on, in every matter as it appeared. It surprised him not, after what he had seen, that they had followed Potter the last year to the graveyard in Godric's Hollow, and neither did it surprise him that wherever Potter went, Granger would be his guarding shadow.

She had potential and power, and if she was able to withstand an onslaught of a kind that truly only Voldemort would think of, then who would be better adapted to the job of guardian than her?

There was, however, another matter entirely, and that had very little… or little… to do with the fact that she was strong. He liked strong women a lot, but she was sixteen, hardly a woman. Yet, she showed strength and maturity and coupled with her awakening body, it drew him to her. He liked watching her too much, liked to dismantle her _Glamours _and see her work in his classroom, he liked to watch her as she slept in the library and oh dear lord if that display of strength just hadn't just given him the weirdest turn-on.

* * *

"I will continue to train with you, Potter, if you forward me one promise."

He watched as the young man eyed him warily and suppressed a smirk. Of course it would have been so easy for him to just ask him _anything_ – Potter needed the training lessons. But he was also aware that if he didn't show any discipline, he would never succeed in mastering the art.

"It appears that the reason you have been able to lock me out longer than I expected you to, was none other than Hermes Granger."

Potter was frightened of him now. Snape smirked… maybe he'd hand the brat a copy of a book about Occlumency just so he'd know what exactly one could do with the art… but then he wouldn't be so much fun to mess with.

"Your promise to me shall be to continue your lessons with Granger… and do not tell him I know of his ability."

The boy was obviously relieved as he nodded his head. Snape smirked… this was too great, he had Parcival-Pansy at his hands to tell him about Hermione and now a direct link to the young witch via Potter… If only this blasted war wouldn't come at all.

* * *

"Ron, what are you playing at?"

The red-head fumed and jumped up – the whole common room looked at the couple. For sure, even though the school did not know it yet, it was obvious to Gryffindor House that Harry and Ron had a bit more going on than just friendship. "What am I playing at? Nothing! Just you hanging around with that traitor rather than your best friend!"

Fred and George listened carefully, while keeping their heads low. The quarrel had been coming on for a few months now – and apparently _this_ was the lover's quarrel everyone had waited for. It was not Harry's fault from what they could tell, but it was also not Ronald's fault – it was just the wrong time. The twins knew that Harry had been having strange nightmares that left him panting and bleeding sometimes even, screaming his throat raw. Ronald wanted to help, yes, but he did not know how, and Harry had known the one person who would know what to do – actually, it did not take a lot of thinking to realize just who that person was: Hermes Granger was, after all, secret agony aunt of just about everybody. Once he put his mind to the task, he'd solved it rapidly and without a lot of blabla. His solutions were practical and easy and no one ever needed to fear being revealed by the silent student.

"Hermes is not a traitor, Ronald, you of all people should know that – if it wouldn't be for him, you wouldn't still be alive."

Gryffindor dared not to breathe.

It was common knowledge that Hermes Granger had saved Ronald Weasley, but no one ever said it aloud, especially not Harry Potter – at least not until now. It had been obvious that Boy-Wonder had chosen his lover over the brain behind the brawn – at least until now.

"That one time?" Ronald breathed. "That one time when he was useful? That's why you still think you owe him?"

Harry shook his head. "It's not only that one time, Ron. I remind you, first year, we'd have never made it past Fluffy. Second year, I'd have died alone, he took the Basilisk on, Ron. Third year, I'd have been dead if not for him. Fourth year, I wouldn't have been able to get you from under the water if it hadn't been for the gillyweed Hermes stole for me. Better yet: I'd have been dead _twice_ if the dragon had first not directed himself at Hermes and _then_ in Godric's Hollow… they'd have never caught Karkaroff if not for Hermes and his friends."

"Freaks!" Their brother shouted enraged. "All of them! How could you put _them_ over _me_?! You trust them with whatever your dreams are about, but not me! I have stood at your side time and time again and still you go to them!"

Harry was silent after that, collecting his tools and homework, before he stood, his head down. "I sought them out, because this time around I knew they were the only opportunity. They might be freaks, but they are strong and controlled – and control… is what I need right now."

When he left, the twins ducked even lower into their texts, hoping to not be noticed by either of the younger students. Harry left the common room to go Merlin knew where, while Ronald stomped up to their room. The twins looked at each other; they needed to find Hermes.

* * *

This was getting ridiculous. Ronald Bilius Weasley was nothing more but a petulant child that, for once, had not gotten what it wanted for Christmas and was now throwing the temper tantrum on the scale of the Giant Squid when new moon was near. Merlin sometimes she wished she could just _hammer_ some intelligence into his bean brain.

She had tried to talk to him in the halls, but it had all helped nothing. He'd yelled at her, had even gone as far as to publicly denounce her as _mudblood_ and Christ that had hit her right where it hurt. The twins had been trying everything to make her see that not all Weasleys were idiots and while it was nice to have two Weasley brothers present their newest charm on one Malfoy, she also felt sorry for them feeling sorry about their brother. But most of all, the dispute was grating at Potter, was impairing his concentration and his learning effects and that was highly undesirable. She had to set this right and soon.

"_Incarcerous." _Weasley had hardly entered their dorm, when she shot him down with the spell, pinning him to the door with her ropes. She could only hope that even though Dumbledore had said he'd keep an eye on her wand more often, he would realize this was necessary.

"_Silencio." _She didn't want him to scream as he surely would have set out to when he'd taken a deep breath – and she wouldn't take any more of his insults, surely not.

"I will talk, Weasley, you will listen." Hermes stood to near the red-haired boy, who glared from under his fringes. "Potter is a walking stick, because he doesn't eat anymore, the shade of his skin rivals the white of Sir Nicholas, because he's stopped sleeping altogether. And do you want to know the reason?" She really didn't care if the brat wanted to know what was happening or not, he'd have to listen anyways – she'd promised to save Potter's hide, but it was easier to protect a young man from a menace such as Voldemort, than to have him eat and sleep when he really didn't want to. "You are the reason. You're making this harder than it is supposed to be. And you're stressing him for _no reason at all._"

Imitating Snape, she towered over the bound student and glowered at him as she continued. "I am not interested in Potter… not that way, and the reason he's been coming to me for advice, is because people know that we aren't the best of friends. Should I say something… anything, people would not believe me as easily, however, if something should slip over your tongue, any word at all, people would of course take it as a given, Gryffindor knows after all that the two of you are an item. I am the safe route, Weasley, while you are the safe man."

Hermes had no idea if what she'd said made sense to the red-head, but as she stepped back and eased the ties on his body, he said nothing, peacefully letting her leave. It was just as right to her, when he squeezed himself between Harry and her at the table the next day.

* * *

Hermione reared up when she heard Potter's scream.

For the safety of Ron's mind and Harry equally, Hermione had taken up her bed in her original dorm room again. Joan had promised to make sure that her books and cauldrons would stay untouched and Peetey had promised to make sure her friends would be informed of her migration.

As she scrambled out of her bed, automatically resetting her Glamours, and hurried towards Harry's bedside, the young man was already up, searching for her. Ron was not far behind, but stayed silent when Boy Wonder clung to Hermes Granger and broke down.

"It's alright, Potter… it's alright…"

Weasley only scrambled up when he finally got the message behind Hermione's pleading looks – comforting was best done by somebody close to the person. Only when Ron had calmed his lover down again, did she dare to pry Harry away from the red-head for a small, private talk.

Harry swallowed when he sat down on the fauteuil in the common room. "It was… was… Ron's father… Mr Weasley… I _slithered_… I think I was the snake, I was Nagini… and then I found him, struck him… multiple times, he bled, asked me to stop, I attacked again, he bled more and then he stopped struggling… simply lay there, didn't react…"

Hermione listened intently, before taking his hands into hers. "Tell Ron?"

Harry shook his head, his eyes wide. "And say what? I dreamt I attacked your father? No – we finally talk to each other again, I can't do this…" _But I have to do something_. He didn't need to say it, Hermione understood anyways.

"How about we write a letter to the Weasley family, tell Weasley senior to look out for snakes… wherever he goes, maybe tell him to keep a flask of anti-venom in his pockets as well. Then we wouldn't have to tell Ron and his father's death can be avoided, yes?"

Boy-Wonder nodded.

* * *

Snape cursed as he poured yet another vial of anti-venom down the throat of Arthur. Poppy wasn't allowed to heal outside of Hogwarts, even though he was sure that Molly would have rather had Poppy treating her husband than Snape. After all these years that he worked for the Order, she still didn't trust him.

He almost jumped when next to him Potter, Weasley and Granger appeared, two Hogwarts' elves holding their hands.

"Dad!"

Granger was quicker than Weasley though and held him back. It caused him a fist to the jaw and an elbow into the ribs, but Granger held; she breathed heavily. "Wait until the potion is down his throat, Weasley, or it will have no effect at all." The struggle ceased almost immediately and his student opted instead to hurry over to his mother.

Potter was rooted to the spot, silently watching the hardly breathing figure of Arthur Weasley. The potion went down the throat – he watched the slight rose glimmer vanish in his throat and dissolve into nothingness. While he said nothing, Granger gasped, biting her lip almost immediately when she noticed her fault – the whole family stared at her.

"What about extraction, sir?" she finally asked – he glared at her.

"I have thought about it, Mister Granger, but my healing abilities only go that far, I'd need another wizard to _help_." He was desperate for anything at this point – Nagini's poison was dangerous to any living creature and St. Mungo's could not be called – if Weasley survived this night, he'd be kept a secret, simply to be able to surprise Voldemort at the right time.

In his dark mood he had not realized that she had positioned herself right opposite of him, only when her wand raised to his eye-height did he realize her intentions. "Mister Granger, step back, I have no time for children's games…"

"And neither does Mister Weasley. No matter how many more potions you'll pour down his throat, they will have as much effect as the last one. Extraction is a possibility to save his life. Now, sir, on the danger of Gryffindor losing more house points than we might ever recover: _raise your wand to mine_."

She had given him an order!

His mind reeled for the split of a second, torn between ignoring her command and continuing his treatment and listening to her. His wand decided for him – his tip was raised to hers, before he had consciously made a decision.

Their magic connected as if on cue, as if they had done this a thousand times already and this was just another round – the silent hum of their combined powers filled the air as they put their hands to the biggest wounds that perforated the pale corpus of Arthur. The first effect was almost immediate.

A white dome of magic appeared over the patient's body and while they had to wait a minute for the next proof of success, it did happen. He heard sizzling as the venom dropped out of the closing wounds, and as if a Phoenix had cried over the wounds, they closed with little more than a small scar. Her magic felt like water washing over him and he wondered if she could feel his magic, and what it felt like. Arthur's breathing returned to normal, and when the last wound was finally closed, they broke their wand connection.

She shook on her legs, not used to the extra strain such kind of healing magic put on a wizard – or a witch for that matter – and fell to her knees, regaining her wits only mere moments after her knees had hit the ground. A groan followed and she raised herself again, looking at him.

He was checking Arthur. His complexion was still pale, but his breathing was normal and his wounds were closed – and upon a quickly cast check-up spell, he found that none of the venom could still be found in the body. He nodded, before he turned to the Weasley family.

"You can speak of luck that Granger appeared, Arthur will make it."

* * *

"But he survived did he not?!"

"YEAH!" Ron bellowed. "NO THANKS TO YOU, YOU BLOODY TRAITOR! HOW COULD YOU NOT TELL ME! THAT WAS MY FATHER AFTER ALL, WHO ALMOST DIED! I DON'T EVEN WANT TO KNOW WHAT KIND OF MAGIC HE AND SNAPE EVOKED!"

The twins guiltily watched as Hermes' bushy hair vanished behind the next corner again. Things had looked so uppity the last few weeks – and really, would it not have been for Hermes, their dad would have become Snake-fodder. Snape had been at his wits end, the whole family knew that and everyone, save for Ron, was thankful that Hermes had shown up in the moment he had.

It came as a surprise to them that such a young man knew of a poison-extracting spell, but at least two wizards had – better than none; and it had saved Dad's life. Now as they listened to Ron publicly denouncing Harry – essentially breaking up with him – they watched the corner behind which Hermes had hid.

They needed to make it up again, needed to make it up to Hermes – if not for him, however ungrateful Ronald was – Dad would be dead, and no charm on Malfoy and not even the Marauder's Map made up for such a debt.

* * *

*No offense.

**There you go. I hope this sated your appetite somewhat until we can continue with the really heartbreaking stuff**


	25. The Ministry

**Because I promised that there'd be another chapter soon, and you've waited for over a week already - here it is. **

**As always: Harry Potter is owned by Rowling, I took large liberties - ENJOY!**

* * *

Dumbledore looked at the bushy-haired, young wizard in front of him. Mister Granger had asked for a word and as it appeared that he had some information to forward… looking rather nervous about it.

Which was not surprising, given that last time he'd been in his office, the headmaster had spoken rather sternly to him – at the time he'd deemed it necessary, but after this year, he wasn't too sure anymore. Had it really been necessary to ban him from wand-use for half of the Triwizard Tournament? Had it really been necessary to threaten with a close look on the uses of his wand? Had it even been necessary to try and prod his mind? This year the young man had shown so much courage, so much loyalty and strength… so unlike Tom…

"Sir, I am sure that you are informed about Mister Potter's… dreams." He began, stopping to wring his hands and taking a deep breath, before he finally dared to look him straight into the eyes. It was as if he was trying to evade something, just what was the question. Dumbledore nodded his head in acquiesce.

"Of course, Mister Lupin and Black have both come to forward me this problem already and I have made sure to take care of it, Mister Granger, be sure of it." He nodded, but still did not stand up. "That's not why you have come here, then?"

The boy didn't give himself away. "It is part of it, sir. Professor Snape… might have started his lessons with Mister Potter in December, but maybe he has told you about, Mister Potter being a little more prepared than he had anticipated."

Indeed, Severus had practically complained to him that Harry was better than he had thought, but he had written it off to Harry being a natural Occlumens, surely he'd have known if the boy had started teaching the old art to himself, he was such an easy book to read after all.

"Well, sir, the reason, is me." Now his ears perked up – so he was going to be let in on the mystery that was Hermes Granger? He always liked to know secrets. "Mister Potter has come to me with his problem and I am sure that you have noticed I had rather convincing arguments since my battle with the Firecrow."

Indeed Mister Granger had almost miraculously survived his one-on-one with the Firecrow last year, after Karkaroff had so gallantly shoved him into the arena. And after all, Dumbledore himself had tried to enter his mind, only to find that certain information was not for him to see. Mister Granger continued.

"I have been reading on Occlumency in my third year, have trained myself and found that I could block out people relatively easy." Dumbledore nodded, Granger was disciplined, organized and controlled – everything a wizard needed to be in order to thrive in Occlumency, yes. "Pushing thoughts was a harder thing to do, but I managed anyway. So when Mister Potter came to me about these dreams… I suggested Occlumency – it is the reason he was better than Professor Snape expected and the reason I am aware of what I am going to tell you now."

This time around, the young man took another fortifying breath. "Mister Potter is… despite his training, only an acceptable Occlumens. He can block obvious attacks, but is open when he is not suspecting anything – meaning during his sleep. It is why the dreams have not really stopped."

It did not surprise the headmaster that Granger had a theory on these occurrences, he always needed to have an answer it seemed. The boy continued: "He dreamt of the attack on Mister Weasley, which was why we sent him a letter that was ignored, but the dream itself proved to be true. I find it prudent to inform you of another dream that Potter does not want to share with anyone."

Dumbledore stood this time around, not sure whether it was a good idea to be involved in all this – after all he'd kept his distance from Harry purely for the reason of not feeding him to Tom, had it been the wrong decision after all?

"Sir?"

His eyes zoomed to the concerned face of Mister Granger, he nodded at the boy to continue as he started to pace up and down in his office – Granger continued as asked.

"He came to me yesterday and told me that he dreams of a door in the Ministry that he had supposedly seen the year when he was at the Ministry for trial of having conducted magic in front of muggles, on a muggle – you might remember the incident with his aunt. Anyway, he dreams of that door, goes past it in his dream, and then sees Mister Black – being tortured for information, on something that he is supposed to know its location of. Potter screams his throat out nowadays, and Mister Weasley… is unlikely to help since he wasn't informed of the attack on his father beforehand."

Dumbledore nodded. It was no news to him that Voldemort wanted the prophecy – he only had half of it after all, Severus had come too late to overhear all of it. Preparing for a war meant to be prepared for every eventuality and that meant gathering as much intelligence as possible, and a prophecy meant a lot of intelligence. Harry was undoubtedly involved with Tom's future – he'd defeated him once, wielded the same wand and prophecies could only be plucked by those who they concerned.

* * *

He watched the four witches hurl across the Room of Requirement – he had entered upon a rather peculiar scene.

They stood back by back, wielding their wands against dummies that carried the former regalia – black cloaks and skull masks. Silent and loud curses echoed through the room, bounced off shields, riveted off walls and hit an unsuspecting victim if they were not careful.

Of course the Room of Requirement gave what was needed, but he had never thought of using it that way. It took a while – the dummies were trying to split the Clover apart, but that was easier said than done, they had excellent aim and watched out for one another, as if they were connected in mind, having occluded each other to realize dangers before the other noticed it – was such a thing even possible? – fighting with wands and hands, or even completely silent.

They were fifteen, sixteen at best, and Snape had to admit that they would stand a real chance when facing off not dummies but real Death Eaters… well, they had already stood a chance, and had been able to part all in one piece at the resurrection of the Snake.

But Voldemort had reorganized his terror-group, had re-recruited his old forces and forced those that were old enough to join his cause, so long as they were from the right family. They collected and assembled their forces, but were soon ready to strike.

Just when he had finished that thought, a Voldemort dummy himself appeared, casting a curse that very much resembled the Killing-Curse in colour, but acted as nothing more than a slicing hex that bounced right of Luna's shield. Combined forces finished the foe and the Death Eaters vanished.

Good. They were sweaty and beaten, but they were prepared… for all eventualities.

* * *

"One day, I swear, just after I've managed that animagus thing, I'll tackle apparition." Cho seethed when they arrived at the ministry. Hermione had to agree, that stupid turning and falling with the portkey was going to break her bones one day, she groaned. Harry seemed unharmed, but that was just as usual – nothing seemed to ever faze Boy-Wonder.

The Ministry was suspiciously silent at this time, and Hermione wondered just _why_ exactly it was so silent – normally officials worked 24/7 every day of the year. That was, after all, the reason why the best way to get a safe job in the wizarding world was to employ at the ministry – they always needed someone to cover for someone else, or to take over a night shift, or weekend shift, or holiday shift, or whatever… But right now, the dark halls of the ministry were deserted and silent.

"_Ostendeo."_ Harry whispered.

Hermione had taught him the 'Point-Me'-spell earlier that week, and since he was the only one who really knew _what_ they were looking for, it was prudent to let him work the magic.

* * *

"Wands at the ready."

And what a good thing it was that they _were_ at the ready. For as soon as they had reached the cross-road that Harry had dreamt about they realized that not only had the Occlumency-trainee fallen for a faked memory, but that it was an ambush.

"Death Eaters."

It had ensued in an all-out fight. No one had held back, several Killing Curses hit something over their shoulders; badly aimed and apparently more meant to frighten them than to really hit them. The Clover clustered around Harry, as they had trained, and kept fighting. Luna's bunny hopped off into distance, hoping to catch Dumbledore before anything grave happened.

"Now, now, peace my brothers." A mocking voice admonished from the side of the cloaked men – Hermione's heart stopped, she recognized Malfoy's voice everywhere, even in the middle of a battle when her blood rushed through her ears. The masked man stepped forth.

"We are here for one thing, dear students and you can help us get it. We want nothing more, not from you, not from old man Dumbledore… only, the prophecy."

The prophecy. Hermione growled – of course they wanted the prophecy and Dumbledore knew it. If a war was about to start knowing of the cause and maybe even the _outcome_ could be essential to one side, it could even mean defeat or victory. Harry's fate was intertwined with that of their Lord – of course he'd want the prophecy, he needed to know.

"What aisle?" she asked – there was only Harry to get hold of the prophecy, and there was only Harry to destroy it. But they did not know where it was, their enemies did. Behind her, her friends held their breath.

Malfoy smirked contently at her, when he pointed at something over her head. Hermione's eyes were quicker than her head and she found that the crossroad they had been led to was exactly the point where the prophecy stood. Hermione turned to her friends.

_Lu, what about Dumbledore? _

The blond shook her head almost unnoticeably – there had yet to be an answer of the old man, Hermione silently despaired. Of course her maniac brain had come up with a different plan, but she could only put that plan into action if she was sure they'd make it. As it was now, they needed time – Harry could give them time.

"Potter, reach up and grab it."

Harry did not take lightly to orders, but after she'd glared at him, he slowly rose to the tips of his toes and grabbed the glassy ball. As soon as it rested in his palms, the blue essence in the ball transformed and the face of none other but Trelawney – Hermione sneered – appeared in the ball, her voice was raspy.

"_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches. … Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…__ He Who Shall Not Be Named, shall be hindered once… and shall return…"_ The air around them was dense as everyone listened to the prophecy, not even their enemies dared to move – curiosity was, after all, human. _"And with renewed power, with the blood of his foe marked as his equal, shall rise again… to never be defeated by a man… in a war where beast shall unite with men… The Dark Lord shall return…"_

Silence reigned shortly, and as the pause stretched, Lucius stretched out his hand on which a velvet, black tissue lay, Luna raised her wand and her left hand, Hermione did the same, as did Cho and Pansy.

Harry let the glassy ball fall – curses blasted at three Death Eaters, and Hermione raised her arms to the shelves that towered above her. _"Reducto."_

Silvery-blue memories, shards of glass and voices boomed around them as they fled, their enemies on a wild chase. A door appeared not far ahead and with renewed energy they made for it – they realized too late that it was not the exit.

* * *

Hermione could still remember Harry's howl when Sirius fell behind the veil, but it paled in comparison to the horribly loud silence when Cho sank to her knees.

"_Avada Kedavra."_

And Dumbledore had been too late, had watched impotently when the beautiful Asian took the hit meant for Harry Potter and died in the foyer of the Ministry, just as the Floos lit up with green flames and the Aurors stepped out.

They dared not speak as their magic assembled itself out of its own volition, covering the girl with additional _Glamours_ as hers fell away in the face of death. Malfoy and LeStrange apparated away before they could be caught, Pansy caught Cho before he lifeless body touched the ground, Hermione and Luna helped support the limp body.

Cho, dead, but still eerily beautiful Cho, stared up at them with lifeless, black eyes, she looked as if she was sleeping. Hermione hid her sob in her friend's shoulder, Pansy pushed her head against Cho's and Luna held her cooling hand.

The Minister stepped forth, but Hermione heard none of his words, heard none of the yells and outraged cries of the Aurors, heard none of the words of the headmaster, or even felt his hands on her shoulder when they were side-alonged back into the school, Cho's body was still lifeless in their arms.

* * *

Joan was clad in black today, he noticed when the witch smiled sadly at him and silently swung open to reveal Hermione, Luna and Pansy huddled together in the large bed. Snape sat down in front of the bed and looked at the tear-stained cheeks of the girls.

Cho Chang had given her life for Harry Potter, he had heard of the courageous actions of the 'Founders' as Lucius liked to call them – he could never remember anyone's name save for Granger's, but liked to mock the Clover. Cho had given the ultimate sacrifice one can give in a war between men – a woman had paid with her life, over a glass ball that spit out words and had not even worthy information.

The Dark Lord did not need the prophecy anymore, now that he had Lucius' memories of the prophecy, but Cho had let her life nevertheless.

He sighed as he pushed the blanket over the three entangled bodies, if only he had arrived earlier that day when he had been meant to spy on the prophecy… if only he had listened more closely, then the Snake wouldn't have felt as if he had to know more, the _whole_ prophecy – Cho would still be alive and the Clover would still be complete.

Hermione, his beautiful Hermione, would still have all of her friends and would have been spared the pain of losing a loved one to the horrors of war.

His witch, as he liked to think of her, lay in the middle of the bed, her arms around Pansy and Luna, who were both pressed to her sides. It would be harder on her, from now on; Pansy and Luna would both rely on her, she was the oldest now, Cho had been before.

His mind was at a still stand when he left the room to slide down on the hallway, coming to sit on the plush carpet in this hallway. As he lowered his head into his hand, all he could think about was that he could have spared Hermione the pain of losing someone so dear if only he would have paid closer attention earlier in his life.

* * *

**I give my thanks to douglas. bailey. 7946 (yes they did, thank you), renaid (XD, he sure is going to be addicted, I'm glad that you are still so enthusiastic about this story), Guest (no unfortunately only 3 chapters, but hey here's another one!), Et Cadet Satan Stabit (thank you =D), llittlebigmouthOKC (not for some time yet, if all goes as planned and no plot-bunnies interfere), Lost O'Fallon Girl (now that you're aware of it, I'll finish it - I hate leaving business unfinished), wingsrookie (Yay, reviews!), Helen Roston (this concerned writer will do everything in her power to please her loyal readers... almost everything), arabellagrace (of course he is, but as the civilized people we are, let's rephrase that into: he's a hot-head with purely idiotic moments ;P), TequilaNervous (angsty Harry can be so much fun to write... and stupid Ron, I love to write stupid Ron), bushyhaired-american-nerd (he's a spy, creepy is a. his second name and b. well, he doesn't know it any differently) for all the encouraging reviews, you stoke my ego =)**

**Also, thank you waterangel55, BreadQuenn42, Lady of Tenn, Lost O'Fallon Girl, LadyLithie, Nimidas, LaraBeeXx, DutchNight, and Rosi01 for the Story Alerts. **

**And lastly, my gratitude to waterangel55, Pat17 S and Lost O'Fallon Girl for the Story Favs. **

**I hate myself for having killed Cho :'C **

**REVIEW (makes it better)**


	26. Roku

**And because I felt like it... don't worry, more action next chapters ;) Promise**

**ENJOY!**

* * *

Hermione welcomed Sif with a gentle coo allowing her to cradle her head into the nook of her neck – she shivered almost horribly and for a moment Hermione asked herself just _where_ the owl had been to act so scared. Sometimes she wished she could perform Occlumency on the animal just to know what the hell she was thinking.

Sif was scared nowadays, silent even, she tried to attract as little attention as possible, made herself small wherever they went and liked to practically hide in Hermione's hair. There were few persons she let near her nowadays as opposed to the earlier years when she sought attention and caresses from nearly everyone.

During her summer at the Leaky Cauldron, Hermes picked up a lot of news – Death Eaters were on the rise apparently, recruited wherever possible and destroyed what got in their way. From what she had heard the other day, they had even robbed Ollivander's – it had nearly caused her to cry; _everyone had their wand from Ollivander's_!

Cho's death weighed heavily on her shoulders, but she trudged through. It would be hard to find a replacement, if they would even ever find one, for witches were rare in this world – she would know best. She was glad though to have attended the funeral.

It had been a silent funeral and eventually hardly anyone had been there – not even her family. The rest of the Clover knew that her family had thought her dead since her first year, much like Hermione's, for she'd run away with the letter of her cousin. At least, she figured, Harry had shown up, with Ron this time.

It appeared that the two of them had made up, which was just as well – Harry needed all the support he could get, and Ron was the best man for that. The minister had not shown up, neither had Dumbledore or anyone of the faculty; Hermione did not know if she reproached them for it or not. After all, she could understand the shame they had to feel for failing a young man.

Cho's cat – Crookshanks – had been forwarded to the Clover and had, surprisingly enough, taken a special liking in Hermione, who was glad that Crooks and Sif understood each other as if they were twin-souls. The healf-kneazle never chased the owl and even went as far as leaving her dead mice or rats that he had caught, while she would sometimes detect Sif on the back of the cat, gently prying her talons through the thick fur of the feline.

Pansy and Luna wrote frequently, which provided a nice distraction to the usually quiet life at the Leaky Cauldron at night. Tom had not managed to get the slip to close the Leaky at night – it was a big hub for wizards that wanted to travel and the Ministry cared little for the Death Eater raids at the pub, few as they were. They were a lot more occupied with all the muggle-killings that they had to cover up.

Hermione read through all the killings, hoping against hope that the address of her home would never be listed – it never was. Something other caught her eye though.

_**Dumbledore flees Great Britain!**_

_**Supposedly greatest wizard and headmaster of Hogwarts leaves the isles without a trace**_

Of course the headlines made it sound a lot worse than it actually was. After reading _The Prophet_, _The Quibbler_ and then _Wizard's Daily Digest_, she came to the conclusion that the ministry had replaced Dumbledore with somebody called Dolores Umbridge – a ministry official. Dumbledore had then left the country on a private investigation which had, of course, upset the ministry, but he had returned a few days later.

Hermione furrowed her brows. Dumbledore had been a good headmaster, very good actually, and while she was pleasantly surprised to have a woman as headmistress now, she was not all that convinced about her being a) a ministry official and b) somebody who could not directly do magic – women weren't allowed that privilege, they were only allowed to take theoretical tests.

* * *

Defeated Hermione threw herself on her bed – the rage inside her was due to be let out soon, or somebody would pay with their heads, preferably Umbridge. She groaned as she rolled on her back and stared at the cloudy ceiling. Her fears about the woman had been correct – if there was any ministry official that _lived_ for being a ministry official, it was Umbridge.

_There is nothing to fear. _

_There is no war coming on. _

_Voldemort is not a threat. _

_Actually… Voldemort who?_

Merlin how she was fed up with the lies that woman spout! Voldemort was not a threat? What about the killings in the summer?! What about the freaking Death Eater raids she had lived through?! What about all the students that had lost a part of a family?!

_A lie._

Umbridge was a catastrophe.

She had started the speech by telling students her ignorant little tales, all dressed in pink and with that horrible screechy voice and her unnerving 'Hum-hum' that was at least a pitch higher than that of a normal woman. Merlin if she wouldn't have known McGonagall beforehand and had known that wizarding-women (there were no _witches_) could be normal as well, she'd be horrified of the aspect of having women in the wizarding world as well.

Above her the sky turned dark, preparing for a quick and early nightfall. Hermione stayed awake – Pansy and Luna would probably come by, simply for the sake of not having to sleep in a room full of boys and because her bed was comfy and large enough for the three of them to cuddle.

… And because they hadn't had a good, thorough girl's talk throughout all of summer, they needed to catch up somewhat.

Crookshanks' purring made her smile as she turned her head carefully, watching as Sif's talons sunk into the orange fur – it was a strange symbiosis, she mused sometimes, but it worked out just fine.

* * *

_This is the property of the Half-Blood Prince_

Hermione stared at the book she had taken from Harry. He'd never know of course, because she'd left him the most convincing duplicate – she was quite apt at charms and spells after all, it wouldn't do to be called the _Cleverest Wizard Of His Age_ and be caught because one could not simply duplicate a book.

She had listened to his instructions earlier that day and had found out that would she not have done so, her Draught of Living Death would have proven to be more than just bad. She was miffed that Snape would not oversee all of the Potion's Classes anymore, and that Slughorn would take over some of them, but she figured it was must as alright with her. Snape was probably in conflict with his service to the Dark Lord.

Finally she dared to take a look into the book. Numerous annotations at the side could be found at every page, in black ink and a spiky, all too familiar writing. She narrowed her eyes – that writing was indeed, all too familiar, it reminded her of Snape's writing… a bit immature maybe, but it still had a very strong resemblance.

She thumbed through the book until a spell caught her eye: _Sectum Sempra_, it read, _for enemies_, was scribbled just next to it.

Hermione bit her lip. Of course if the spell was created by Snape, who was believed to be a servant to the Dark Lord, and if it was meant for enemies, it could not bode well for anyone who was hit by that spell, right? But still, she was too curious as to how the spell would react. Then again, if it was a version of a killing spell that no one had ever heard of, then it wouldn't do to try, right? And if it hurt someone then there had to be a counter-spell as well.

She thumbed on. _Vulnera Sanentur_ – she found it on the last side of the book, along with all the other counter-spells. They were listed almost alphabetically in short-hand – Hermione had her mind made up. Book hid in her robes, she went for the Room of Requirement.

* * *

Three months into the year, Dumbledore came back. All of Hogwarts was relieved, safe for Hermione and the rest of the Clover.

"Did you see his hand?" Pansy asked her one evening – they were perched over their impossible DADA-homework, given by Umbridge. She wouldn't let them practice spells, claiming that there was no war at all and that there was no need to be able to defend oneself. Harry had dared to speak up against her and had ended up having a detention with _Blood Quills_ – Hermione hated the woman all the more.

"Dumbledore's you mean?" Luna asked silently. They had taken up residence in their usual corner in the Restricted Section, had cast a profound privacy spell around them, as well as alarming spells that would ring in their ears if somebody came too close. Hermione placed her quill on her parchment, now looking at the two witches opposite of her – they'd put down their quills as well.

"It's gray and shrunk – as if he had a case of Leprosy, but without actually rotting flesh – it looks… like a dried fruit." The blond nodded.

Hermione chewed her lip in thought, the two witches looked at her as she tried to connect dots. "He was away in summer, was he not?" she said silently. "I mean, it was all over the papers that he's been to Albania – perhaps that's something to do with it. Otherwise I'd say it is a very nasty curse, especially since it seems to spread, his neck is affected already."

Pansy nodded. "If it were a spreading curse then it may be possible that he'll not stay for a longer period of time."

Hermione and Luna's eyes widened in shock – the Slytherin silently continued. "I've _heard_ of curses like that. If it is one, then it will spread and shrink and wither the heart as well, any organ for that purpose actually… meaning that if it spreads over his neck already, it is possible he'll start having respiratory problems, before it affects the heart."

Luna groaned and in an uncommon burst of anger slapped her palms down on the table. "This is ridiculous! Dumbledore is dying – and he is the only thing that really keeps Voldemort from this school – and we have a damned ministry whore in our school that will not fucking allow us to prepare for the bloody war that is fucking coming!"

Parcival and Hermes gaped like fish. Luna was normally rather composed, and refrained from using bad language – the subject had to upset her a lot more than she let on if she resorted to using foul words. The silence in their booth was only interrupted by the heavy breaths of the blond, before the young woman broke down.

"Dad's gone to them." She whispered despaired, hiding her face in her hands – Hermione blanched and went over to hug her friend, Pansy did the same.

"My whole family has too – I'm expected to as soon as I'm eighteen." The Slytherin confessed and Hermione proceeded to hug them both close to her. This was worse than she had expected – she knew that neither Luna nor Pansy would want to join Voldemort's cause, but by liability of the family, a young person was demanded to join the cause as well – it was either that or death. Things were too serious to play on.

It was in this moment in the library, when Pansy and Luna both hid under her arms, shaking with what their future might bring, that Hermione finally vowed to do everything to ensure that Voldemort would be dead. She had to be strong for her friends, she had to be strong for Harry and Ron as well, she had to be strong for all the wizarding-women that still were not aware of her being a true witch, she had to be strong for all the witches that might one day follow, she had to be strong for herself.

"If you want to, you can hide at the Leaky with me. There _are_ raids, but they've never entered any rooms – and if that isn't safe… then we'll simply find something safe." She said resolutely, drawing the two girls near and stroking them to ease. "I do not want you to return. Neither of you would join, and I don't want to lose you. I'll kidnap you if that's what it takes."

Both girls smiled at her last comment and cuddled closer to her.

* * *

"This is so ridiculous." Hermione seethed as they lay in their bed in the Room of Requirement. Not being allowed to practice spells made it so much harder to actually understand what should happen when reciting the spells and would it not have been for the Clover-meetings, she'd have all but forgotten how to actually use a wand!

Luna nodded desperately as she cooled down from the Cruciatus attacks they had just put her through. The three of them had been discussing how they all got better at the curse simply because they were so frustrated with Umbridge.

"Hermione… I've been thinking." Pansy began, cuddling close to Luna, "I mean, of course Umbridge would never allow an official duel club –she's a ministry official and has a bit more power than Dumbledore. _BUT_ what we do, the meetings, where we teach each other… we could do that for others as well, no?"

* * *

"Dumbledore's Army, yes?"

Ron munched on his x-th muffin. Hermes realized by now that he would probably never learn to close his mouth while eating, let alone not to speak with a full mouth – but perhaps that was just Weasley.

Hermes nodded at Harry. "Think of it. It would be ideal – people would be prepared for not only what is about to come, but we would also be able to improve our DADA-grades _and_ encourage interaction of the houses! Three flies with one hit."

Potter still looked unsure, Lysander cut in, his voice gentle and airy as always. "Listen, Harry, you know as well as we do, that things are happening, whether the ministry wants to acknowledge this or not. The raids aren't stopping and there are those that are affected directly – people _want_ to fight, they want to feel like they have a possibility to survive a fight with a Death Eater. And we can give them that feeling, _you_ can give them that feeling. You have survived four encounters with Voldemort, if not you then who should spear-head such an… underground club?"

It amazed Hermione every time when Luna started to speak – whether or not her father was a Death Eater, but he'd surely taught his girl to find the right words. Harry stayed silent for a little, before a glint sparked in his eyes and he smirked.

"We'd be breaking ministry's rules." He said conspirationally. "I'm surprised, Hermes, that the idea was yours."

Hermione smirked back at him. "You'd be surprised, Harry, just _how_ many rules we've already broken. So… are you in?"

"Dumb question, 'course I am!"

* * *

**It's the prelude to the war... **


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